The Lost Mermaid and Her Dragon
by KuraOkami13
Summary: They hardly even knew each other, but when stuck on a remote island, miles away from any region and missing all their pokemon, Champion Lance and Gym Leader Misty are about to get to know each other a lot better to survive, among other things. Kingdrashipping LancexMisty
1. Chapter 1

Oh, don't mind me, just playing around with an idea that has been fishing around my head while I keep working on War of the Legends.

And to wallow in my fail at writing survival stuff. And crack pairings. C:

* * *

The first thing that came to mind when Lance awoke was the blinding light filtering into his eyes.

_Lightning flashing, flickering lights- reflections everywhere._

The second that came to mind, when his hand lifted to block out the source, or at least to get a reprieve from its blinding rays, was that his body felt incredibly heavy and sore, and that there was a splitting headache assaulting him.

_Pain, glittering steel swipes at him. Shadows all around, he's fighting shadows! Shadows with fists and kicks all flying at him._

The third was that something gritty and like sandpaper was on his face, his hands, his clothes- daring to peek under the shade of his hand, he saw white grains of sand crusted to his clothes.

_Melted sapphire, cold as ice, flooding from blasted silver walls, so salty and repulsive to the tongue. Shadows all around, at his heels. Suddenly he's not so alone- someone dressed in fires fights away the shadows. Fire rips them apart- he's flung out of the walls._

_Falling..._

_Falling..._

_Darkness soaks him to the bone, crushing down on him. He breaks the surface, fighting for his life, and finds steel waiting for him._

He doesn't bother stopping the groan from loosening in his throat as he heaves to. Lance gets to his feet, noticing the weak, wobbling that follows his rise. His limbs ached, he could feel sand in one too many places, and his body felt like it had been used as a personal punching bag for a Machamp. His mouth was dry as the desert, and skin hot from the sun.

Lance ignored his body's complaints and took a long look at his surroundings. He appeared to have been stranded on a beach, white sand only tainted to a yellow by the harsh blue ocean water crashing onto shore. With one look to his left or right he could see nothing by rocky shallows and beach sand as far as his eye could see. An endless ocean bowed before him, surf waves gathering far out and crashing fierce againts the beach and rocks.

Behind him grass and a few healthy, strong palm trees poked out in tufts and thin groups from the sand before becoming a lush, forested curtain of jungle that he couldn't see any farther into past a few dozen trees. The only implication he could see of any other topographic features of where he was at were a few thin, difficult to see points of snow-less mountain peaks peeking over the thick jungle.

Large scraps of sheet metal occasionally struck the air from beneath the sand. That's right, he remembered through his headache, he had been on a ship.

A ship...

"Going from Vermillion to the League Champion Gathering... a storm hit and something went wrong with the ship and it started tearing apart." he reminded himself. The metal must have belonged to it, and it had to have sunk in the ocean. How else could he be stranded here?

Stranded.

That word left an awful taste on his tongue.

"Alright, I can handle this. " he told himself, hand reaching for his pokeballs, "I can use Dragonite to fly me upwards, see this land from above. Find some civiliza-"

His words died in his throat once his hand stopped on the space where Dragonite's pokeball was supposed to rest, alongside Gyarados and the Dragonair twins.

Key word: _supposed_ to rest.

It wasn't there.

_They _weren't there.

His pokemon _were gone_.

* * *

Short, sweet, and to the point, aren't I? BTWs, this Lance is anime Lance, with elements of the PA/games Lance (mostly looks, slightly team) cuz last time we saw him in the anime, it was AdvGen, and that was a LONG time ago, doncha think?

If you like this, review. Fave's are nice... but reviews are better.

If no like, review and tell me so.

If not, I'll just continue anyway. Whenever I get around to it.

Lots of Love!

-KO13


	2. Chapter 2

HAI. C:

* * *

As out of character as it might seem for the cool, awe-inspiring, level-headed Champion and secret Pokemon G-Man agent, for a good five minutes Lance was panicking. Madly sprinting up and down the beach, throwing sand up with his water-logged booted feet as he ran or dug, desperately searching for any bright red and white glint or something hard and metal.

He called, multiple times for any of his pokemon, both vocally and mentally- his gift of poke-telepathy was still something of a secret to the world, only known of by a handful of people so small he could count on one hand- and each time he called, he would wait a few seconds for a reply.

There was, of course, none returned. Not once did he hear, physically and mentally, the smooth, soprano-female cries of the Dragonair twins, the deep, masculine-rough roar of his Red Gyarados, and the replying call of his closest, the one that had been with him from the start, Dragonite.

Not a peep.`

It was enough to send him on a few minutes of a frenzy.

But, this is Lance we're talking about! THE Lance! Once those few minutes of panic had worked its way out of his system, Lance was able to breathe in, breathe out, and calm.

His pokemon were not on his person, yes. That meant many things; that someone could have found him before he woke up and took them, that the pokeballs were too weak to handle the waves and were lost to the surf, or that they had been lost in the shipwreck.

He could not hear their calls physically; and his Dragonairs had astronomical hearing, so there had to be quite a bit of distance between them for them not to hear him. And since he couldn't hear them mentally, either they were still in their pokeballs, or the distance between him and his pokemon exceeded three miles-the limit to his telepathy, by the way.

Either way, they were not there with him, and so for the first time in a long time, Lance was truly on his own.

After a few seconds of contemplating this thought, he nodded to himself, "I can handle this."

He trusted his pokemon; they had gone through intense years and years of training, fighting, and so much tribulation all by his side. He had won impossible battles with them against the likes of the Elite amongst the elite, and survived countless disasters that should have killed them. His pokemon were tough; he loved and cared for them, but as their trainer he knew them best.

Lance could depend on them to take care of themselves. No, they were now depending on him to take care of himself until they could reunite.

And being that he is who he is, Lance hasn't a doubt in his mind his pokemon will find him.

"Now, first things first," he began to himself, dusting off the sand as much as he could from his seawater-ridden clothes, "got to find a suitable shelter, and water...oh, and friendly survivors."

-o00o-

As he had discovered within an hour, making or finding shelter was a lot easier said than done. Unaware of the exact contents of the thick jungle past the small collection of palm trees or what dangers might lie within, Lance smartly decided to stay close the beach-side and the palm trees, at least until he had fashioned something he could use as a good weapon.

But, shelter first.

Scourging the rocky shallows had proven futile. It had a school of fish that went into the shallow water to feast on the abundant seaweed and other sea-life collected on the rocks and coral, meaning it could be an invaluable source of food, but none of the rocks carved out a cave, and most of the smaller rocks and pebbles were immovable. And being on good speaking terms with the former Elite Four Lorelei, he knew coral could be painful to touch.

Luckily near the jungle were several fallen branches and sticks from the trees, and the palm tree area was littered with the large, green leaves fallen from the tops. However, moving the branches and setting them up was proving difficult. His body, weak from the strong surf and waking up to the beating, energy-zapping sun, was easily exhausted and Lance found himself taking multiple breaks to catch his breath.

A few times, the branches and sticks fell to the ground, or collapsed pathetically. And when he had finally gotten them to stand, the palm tree leaves liked to fall off and refuse to stick. an indignant growl was not hesitant to release from his throat at the sticks and leaves that dared to do the opposite of Lance's demands. But he quieted the rolling anger in his belly.

"Patience. Calm. Anger and haste will only bring you exhaustion and death. Slow and steady is the only way for this." he told himself, imagining old Agatha's voice in his ear. Karen had taken her place in the Kanto-Johto Elite Four, and while he and the other three were welcome to Karen's emergence to their Elite, he missed that insufferable hag sometimes. The old gal had a way with pissing people off, yes, but randomly able to come up with sagely, otherworldly advice that you really could not afford to miss.

In a matter of an hour and a half, though with no watch and none of his seawater-logged gear working, Lance really couldn't tell the time, he had finished his make-shift shelter. Sand had been dug out to make an six inch deep, three-foot wide, four-foot long hole that narrowed at the back like a dagger tip. The main weight-bearing branches were forced into the slightly elevated sides of the hole into the sand, supported on either side at the bottom by the few branches he had found that didn't have a "Y" shaped end". The branches were brought to rest against each other and locked together, "Y" shaped ends locked together in a tight embrace.

To ensure it stayed together, pride be-damned Lance had dared to take the silver string tassels that tied to keep his beloved cape on him and used them to tie the end-locked branch supports together.

The palm tree leaves had been tricky, but eventually he had gotten a brilliant idea to use the wet sand as a make-shift adhesive, aided by the finger-nail cuts into the thick leaves that leaked sap, but too small to penetrate the other side of the leaf, and he had stuck and packed them together onto the sides. A few times they had slid or fallen off, but patiently Lance stuck them back, packed on the wet sand and smooth the cut sides into the untouched sides of the leaf underneath until the wind blew and not a single green piece shook.

It looked terrible, and Lance was sure it wouldn't survive a storm if one hit; but for now, until he had a stable source of water, food, and supplies with which to rebuild a better one, it would certainly do for now.

He had long since discarded his cape during his work; he loved the fabric like a child does a teddiursa doll, but the damn thing was just too heavy on his shoulders, kept getting in the way, and only made his body uncomfortably hotter than it already was, with the heat bearing down and all. It was neatly folded and placed at the very back of his shelter. He couldn't be sure, but something told him it could get unbearably cold once the sun was banished from the sky.

His gold and blue top shirt was flung aside as well, leaving just a thin white tank top undershirt as his protection. The semi-nakedness of his bare arms and neck gave him relief with the cooling sea breezes, but it still didn't change the harsh heat of the sun.

He was sweating by now-had been for the past hour and a half, almost two hours. He felt exhausted, and dehydrated, but satisfied as he rested within the shaded haven of his small shelter.

Then an angry growl emitted from his deprived stomach.

...Lance growled back.

-o00o-

The human body could survive two to three weeks, maybe four, without food. It could survive only two to three, maybe four days without water.

Guess which was higher up on his to-do list?

Despite the loud complaints of his empty stomach, Lance trekked around the palm trees and beach, only daring to venture a couple feet, maybe a few meters into the jungle forestry. He had a thick, sturdy branch that had avoided getting used for construction of his shelter only because one end had a split- a perfect little cozy fit for a thin rock to be slipped in and tied tightly into.

Which is exactly what he had done with the last tassel string to his cape, and a sharp-tipped, flat rock he had taken from the rocky shallow reef.

Thus far, an hour later, he wasn't getting any luck in finding any signs of a stream, river, or any such body of clean, fresh water, which was ridiculous! With all the lush vegetation around, there had to be a source somewhere, a source of water uncontaminated by the salt of the ocean for the forest to feed from. Maybe for a forest upon a continent, rainwater for suffice, but on this big of an island surrounded by salt water that would choke a tree faster than a noose around a neck? Never mind that he really had no clue how big the island was, but it had mountain peaks! That had to account for something, right?

Using the tip of his pathetically put together spear Lance carved into trees every so often as he passed- markers to look back on and find for when he turned and went back, with or without water. It seemed like a smart thing to do, at the ti-

He froze mid-step as something high-pitched and loud pierced the air.

A voice.

A female, human voice.

Without hesitation Lance dashed through the foliage, the faintest idea in the back of his mind to stop to slash a few more trees with his spear tip as he raced after the continuing sound.

It was human, definitely.

As he got closer, it sounded like it was...calling? Calling for someone, maybe?

He burst through the jungle edge and into a barrage of palm trees, ignoring the escalation of the voice and instead focusing on-

WHACK!

"OW!"

Lance clutched at the painful spot where a small rock had just been flung at him, right above his right eyebrow, and narrowly dodged the second one. Vaguely, his hand felt a tad bit wet.

"Hey easy, I'm a friend! I'm not gonna hurt you!"

The person stopped throwing dangerous projectiles, wide-eyes clearing from their panic as they recognized him-not as a monster of the jungle, but another human being.  
The rock was dropped as they-she realized what she had just thrown.

"I'm sorry, mister! I-I thought you were something...er...well..."

"Not human?" he finished for her, amused. "It's okay, I would have done the same thing in your position..." he removed his hand from the spot the first rock had hit, and was taken aback to see bright red staining his fingers. "Quite an arm you've got."

"Oh! I even made you bleed! Jeez, I'm sorry!" she shouted, and Lance looked away from his hand and actually looked at her.

She was a young woman, slim and petite, just a hair's breadth from being a foot smaller than him. Dressed in ruined summer clothes of a tank top, short sleeved jacket, and shorts, she looked as sand-worn as he did, sand caking the creases of the fabric. Her eyes from the distance between them, appeared to be a color somewhere in-between blue and green, and her hair was a bright carrot orange kind of red, tainted a shade darker due to the recent introduction between herself and the ocean, he'd bet. It was loosening itself from a curious side-ponytail, with a heavy wave of orange fringe covering her forehead.

A nagging part of his brain whispered to his conscious that she looked like someone he knew, someone he had met a long time ago. But who? He just couldn't put his finger on it...

He brushed off the thought.

"Its no trouble." he said, wiping at the blood. It felt like it was just a tiny cut- nothing to really worry about. "Are you alright? I heard your voice while I was looking around, but I couldn't make out the word." he asked.

She nodded, "I-I'm fine, but I can't find Azurill!"

He blinked, "Your pokemon?"

The girl-woman nodded feverishly, "I was on a ship going to Olivine when something terrible went wrong, and Azurill and I escaped on a piece of the ship, but I must have gone unconscious. When I woke up on the beach... she was gone!"

Lance placed a comforting hand on her shoulder "I'm sure she'll be fine. She's probably looking for you just as you are," he said, trying to reassure her. She looked so frightened, afraid for her pokemon, that Lance was almost afraid himself that she would burst into tears.

"Of course she's not!" the girl woman fumed.

Wait.

"What?"

The girl shook her head, carrot strands whipping with her, "Knowing that baby, she'll be all over the place, thinking she's on some fun adventure, totally oblivious to any danger around her!"

Lance blinked, a funny image of a prancing Azurill obliviously walking on a vine over a pit of hungry Arboks in the jungle sowing into his thoughts. He forced it away, distracted from the issue at hand.

"I'll help you find your Azurill, but it'll be a lot safer for us to survive here if we stick together."

"O-okay, Lance."

He jumped, surprised, though he really shouldn't be, "Have we met before?"

She smiled, "Who doesn't know THE Dragon Master of Kanto, the undefeated Lance?"

He shrugged, "Touche."

"Yes well," she began thoughtfully, "I suppose it also helps we've met before, long time ago...it's okay if you don't remember." she laughed at his puzzled expression, apparently his inner search for a match-up in his memory of her fair, hair, voice, and such wasn't so inwardly kept as he thought. "It wouldn't surprise me, much." she said pleasantly.

"I apologize. Since you know my name, but yours eludes me...you are?"

"I'm Misty."

* * *

Could it be-? The second main character of this fic? ALREADY!

Why YES. YES IT IS.

Also: Lance has the same telepathy as his Manga counterpart for the Pokemon Adventures. And in his HGSS outfit. As for Mist-generic Misty-esque clothes? At least I stuck with shorts...

If you like this, review. Fave's are nice... but reviews are better.

If no like, review and tell me so.

If not, I'll just continue anyway. Whenever I get around to it.

-KO13


	3. Chapter 3

To the following:

asdf (): I officially love you, simply because you reviewed. And the first. And yes- I'm apparently not the first to think of it, since it has an official name but... not once have I seen a single fic on here with them, so I thought, eh, why not. It's an interesting thing to try, I love Lance to death, and Mist's my favorite gal. So why not?

pokemongirl249: Thanks, and it's okay, I understood what you meant the first time. We all have those fail-type days C:

japaneserockergirl: Thank you- I've always liked Lance, with his awesome, bada$$ery. No matter which one is chosen, from GameLance to Pkmnadventuresmanga Lance and AnimeLance, its sort of a vital trait to his character. But, what I've always felt lacking was the humanity (not morality, goodness knows the episodes featuring him couldn't stop shoving it into our face)- yes, he's the best, the Champion (or Elite Four, depending on which we're talking about) but ultimately, he's still human. And sometimes I feel like a lot of people forget that.

whyisitimportant: Like I said with japaneserockergirl, his bada$$itude is a vital piece in his character, but ultimately we all tend to forget he's still just as human as everyday joes. Now, granted, that does not mean I'm going to draw him out as an overemotional wreck who loses all grip on reality and the absolute tragic trauma of his life at the drop of a pin named Misty- Lance's still knows how to compose his gentlemanly self (lol). But its good to be reminded we're human. C:

* * *

"Wow," Misty remarked, "you sure are way better at this survival expert thing than I am. It would have taken me forever to think of this!" she said, awed by what she saw as amazing, was to Lance his hazardous, pathetically put-together little hut that wouldn't even fit a Girafarig, much less two humans.

On the way back to the spot he had set up the small shelter, Lance had discovered a few things, some obvious, and some just, well, random you could say. One, was that the same ship he had been on that had sunk last night was the same ship Misty had been on. According to her, and bits filled in from his memory, something went wrong in the ship's engine and the vessel had started to tear itself apart and explode from within. When he asked of the passengers, she shrugged, and said the last she saw of anybody was helping people onto the lifeboats before going after some guy who had retreated back inside the ship. The rest was a little foggy.

He had also learned that Misty came from Cerulean, and was the youngest sibling to the Sensation Sisters of Cerulean, and in return he gave away that he had grown up in Blackthorn in Johto with his cousin, the now-gym leader Clair. Though she didn't say a word about it, Lance quickly came into the conclusion of her pokemon trainer status-that is, as a gym leader. If his memory served him correctly, the Sensationals and Misty were the Waterflowers, the sole owners of the gym, and that ever since the management of the gym had been taken up by their "youngest and best" the gym had risen up from being the laughing stock to one of the toughest gyms Kanto had to offer.

It wasn't the real reason why she was faintly familiar to him, but he couldn't help but think he was on the right track.

When he modestly told her that the shelter wasn't as spectacular as she put, and that it had little room for two people, Misty pointed out, "Well, no there isn't room-if you're sprawled out all over. I'd bet if we squeeze in right and stay somewhat curled up, there'd be room."

Sounded plausible, he'd admit. Except the whole close proximity- he wasn't a very...touchy-feely person. Lance liked his privacy, and his personal space,_ thank you_. And, as Lorelei had taunted him endlessly until her retirement from the Elite Four, he was also nervous around girls.

"You made that spear, right? Where'd you get the rock?" her question snapped him out of his thoughts, which involved digging out the shelter more to make room so that there would be no accidental invasion of personal space.

"The rock formations over there." he pointed to the formation near the reefy shallows to the right of his-well, he supposed their - shelter. The waves that crashed against the rock surface sprayed water far upon impact, but were not nearly as intimidating as the surf far out to the ocean. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh! Well, I noticed, when I woke up, that there were what might have been people's suitcases from the ship on the beach with me. But none of the driftwood or fallen sticks from the trees were thick or hard enough to break them open. Plus, I was kinda busy looking for Azurill. Maybe I'll have better luck with a sharp rock?"

"May I tag along then? Two's safer than one- besides, it would be a good idea to get familiar with the area."

Misty agreed.

-o00o-

Along the way back to Misty's side of the beach, Lance noticed things he hadn't quite before.

Like the difference between palm trees and coconut trees. Using his shirt-turned bag, he had wrapped a few of the fallen nuts into his shirt and carried it like a sac behind his back. Misty had found a sharp rock, and a few others that as Lance picked up another coconut, figured he could probably use to cut, jab, or smash them open.

"Have you ever eaten coconuts before?" she asked him curiously, eying him pick another up and tuck away into his shirt-sack.

"Not really; are you an expert?" he wondered.

"My friends and I traveled to the Orange Islands once- we stopped on a deserted little island and ate a few there. It's hard work. The green part is like a hard squirtle shell, and once you've broken that, you have the another inside to break too. And both are hard as stone." she said.

He nodded his understandment, and soon they came upon the same spot they had first met. The small rocks she had thrown at him still rested in the places they landed. As Misty led the way, sure enough there were mounds of something solid and dark sticking out of the sand, but only a few, two, maybe three.

Together they easily dug out the closest, a small rectangular bag that was darkened by sand and water to appear bland brown instead of a dark red. Using her rock Misty slashed at its tough fabric, over and over until her efforts produced a series of satisfactory rips. Putting the rock aside, she held the bag still while Lance pried his fingers into the cut and pulled it open.

"I hope whoever owned this won't be mad..." Misty frowned as she pulled out contents from within.

"A bit late for that, doncha think?" he joked.

"I guess."

"Don't worry," he smiled, "I'm sure they'd appreciate its use to keep us alive rather than just rot in the ocean wa-what is that?" he asked, a puzzling look cast on the object Misty had just pulled out.

"Wet, that's what." Misty blanched, holding it up by her fingertips and letting water fly out of the inner folds. It was a small black leather-bound book with a tight clasp around it on a red ribbon. "I think a journal... see, there's the initials of their name." she pointed to a small pair of letters, both capitalized and followed by periods, T. R..

Lance's eyes darkened. He had never liked that combination of letters. He always had affiliated T's and R's with words like Team, and Rocket. Blame his job, but it was how he saw those two letters. Bad thoughts followed them.

But, he supposed he could let it go. It was just a journal, from some silly passenger whose name just happened to be those two letters. Like Thomas Richardson. Or Timon Rodriguez.

"Not much else in here. Just a spare set of clothes." she handed them to him, having set the book to the side, "Think you can fit them? They're mens and much too big for me."

"At this point, I'd hardly think size matters as long as it protects you from the elements." he commented, then shrugged as his eyes cast themselves on the size charts, and held them out to compare to his body. "This shirt might be a little tight around the shoulders."

Misty noticed the long fabric appendages attached and blech'ed, unimpressed at the thin-cloth of the long-sleeved turtleneck, "The sleeves have got to go, that's for sure."

Considering the heat blistering his skin at that moment...

"Agreed." He wrapped the sleeves around and tied them around his waste. As bad as it might appear on him, it'd be easier to carry. He could fix them at their claimed shelter.

There wasn't much else in the bag besides a small bar of ruined cheap dollar-store soap, a matching dollar-store razor, still in its package, the now-inkless pen that was supposed to be paired with the journal, a ruined cell phone, a stretchable red mens' tank top that Misty claimed, and a gift-wrapping paper wrapped decorative dagger with a coiling, spitting Arbok on the handle and an engraving of another snake pokemon on the blade.

No real point to the ruined soap without water around to use it with, so they left it, the pen, and the ruined cell phone in the case and buried it back under the sand. Misty didn't like the keeping of the journal, saying it would be an invasion of someone's privacy, no matter if they're alive or dead, but Lance ignored her. It wasn't like he was planning on reading it anyway. The paper could come in handy for making a fire, he reasoned. She begrudgingly let him win the argument. As for the razor- who knows how useful the blades could turn out to be?

If nothing else, at least Lance could fight off the forces of facial hair!

They opened the other luggage cases and boxes on the beach, finding little else to take back with them. Usefully, one of the cases had a few bottles of water inside, the plastic dented but still tight and sealed. Lance still resolved to find a real source of water that they could rely on. The bottles may keep them alive, but only for a day, if that.

The last they found and opened had clothes in it, and they halved the clothes that fit between each other- which wasn't much to fit into, but what they couldn't wear, they could use, he proposed. Between them, they now had a spear, a sharp rock, and the arbok dagger- granted it was dull-edged, but hey, a few meetings with some solid, smooth rock and water could fix that easy, right? All more than enough to cut up some fabric, coconuts, aggravatingly-long-hours-of-sawing branches, sticks, twigs, leaves... pretty much anything that wasn't steel, if one could put enough effort into it, he supposed.

"I guess that's everything?" Misty stood up, dusting off the sand from her hands and knees. The clothes they now had to add to their small inventory (rock, spear, coconuts) wasn't much, but Lance hoped it would be enough to live with for a while. Both trainers looked for the biggest of their clothes and folded or bundled the rest inside it, using that one article for a carrying case like Lance had his shirt for the coconuts. Misty placed her sharp-edged rock in one of her shorts pockets while Lance slipped the dull-edged Arbok dagger into his pants line. The thick, scale-engraved hilt kept it from falling in.

"We'll come back for those," he pointed to the bundled up clothes. He laid the gathered coconuts with them, "for now, I think we should explore a little bit-get a better understanding of our surroundings, you know?"

"And we do need to find water..." Misty said, eying the water bottles.

"We will." he assured her.

* * *

Filler, I know. Deal, people. If you can survive ten pokemon filler episodes, you can survive a couple filler chapters.

Not a survival expert, so if something isn't right, do correct me.

If you like this, review. Fave's are nice... but reviews are better.

If no like, review and tell me so.

If not, I'll just continue anyway. Whenever I get around to it. C:

-KO13


	4. Chapter 4

To the following:

asdf ():Rageshipping. I'm not sure whether it's because they first met at the Lake of _Rage _or because both their Gyarados' know Dragon _Rage_. A shame, really, 'cos if I had actually been the one to pioneer it, I'd be sorely tempted to call it Firecrotchshipping XD lol jk, I'd end up calling it Seadragonshipping or something odd. But, alas, not the one who officially named it. Also, don't get me wrong, I do think May's occasionally cool (mostly 'cause she had the brilliant idea to evolve her starter to Blaziken, unlike Dawn. Piplup's cute, but Empoleon's got way more swag.) and her random freak-out's are kinda funny-however, none as funny or good as Misty's bug-freak-outs. Which reminds me... also, Iris's hair freaks me out.

japaneserockergirl: Glad you approve then! C: Thanks for the support!

Topazdragon: Thank you, and hey, ain't no shame in bein freaky. Yes, most of us would jump to the conclusion. Unfortunately, anime common sense always seems to be a bit...lacking in the obvious signs department. Also, I wouldn't think it to be healthy to be concentrated on suspicions and conspiracies of an organization when you have other things to do, such as, oh I don't know, staying alive? Lol. And fire? What fire? There's no fire here... yet. *shifty eyes*

This is actually formerly a piece of a longer chapter, that I looked at, noticed the length, then split it in two. So, will be sending its sibling piece up with this one quite soon-of course, some feedback for this one would be absolutely LOVELY before I send in the other half. *wink, wink, nudge, nudge*

Also, please forgive OOCness. It happens to the best of us.

* * *

They had left their claimings from the washed-up ship luggage behind on the beach as they continued onward. The beach was a longer stretch than the one Lance had awoken to, but the distance between forest, beach, and ocean was much shorter. The beach ended in a sharp point with a single palm tree resting on the raised edge, making a very short drop off into a reef. All they had left to look at were a couple formations of rocky cliffs that used to connect with the island, but must have been cut off from erosion, and the distant shadows of what might be barrier islands or shelves far off in the ocean water.

His fingers tapped the guard to the arbok dagger and the other thrummed on the long stick of the spear and with Misty trailing behind him they ventured into the forest. The foliage was thick, and healthy dark green and the sunlight filtered in making spots of light and shadow all over the leafy ground. They ventured though, Misty stopping to occasional scratch something onto one of the trees to signal they had been this way. She would take several minutes though, just to carve whatever it was.

"M...L?" he asked, curiously when they had stopped and could no longer contain the curiosity of why it was taking so long for her to carve the rock into the tree bark.

"Well, you know... M for Misty, and L for Lance?" she said, sheepish under the scrutiny of the pokemon Champion.

"I got that. Just why not a single line, so it's quicker?"

Misty shrugged. "We might mistake it for an animal's or bird's mark. Brock once told me that some pokemon mark on trees with their claws to show their territory."

"Oh...clever."

Brock.

Brock.

That name felt a bit familiar. Where had he heard that name before?

Great, another piece to this puzzle.

"O-okay! All done." Misty said, beaming at her work. The engraved sigil was their first initials with two little silly looking smiley faces, one poking its tongue at the viewer and the other with a small hand making a peace sign. The one with the tongue had a funny shaped triangle poking out the side with sharp, angular points sticking out the opposite direction. The other with the peace sign had hair carved in a shape similar to fire.

Lance's lips quirked up. Cute.

"Let's keep going, then."

They continued the trek through the forest, though there wasn't much to see. Trees everywhere, nothing but green, brown, and the occasional exotic flower of oddly colored foliage, maybe a rock here or there... really, not much to see, and it felt like they had been walking for just an hour.

Then Misty screamed, a heart-wrenching kind of terror gripping her voice, "AAAAAAAIEEEEEAAAAAH!" Lance whirled around and stepped to her front, forcing himself between her and danger, spear gripped in his hands.

"What? What is it!" he shouted, and she gripped onto his shirt tightly, sobbing. The giant leaves before them shook as something approached. Lance pull the tip of his spear in front. Whatever it was, it wasn't getting past him!

"It-it-it's a-"

"Caterpie!" cried out a little green worm from the bushes as it emerged. Lance blinked a few times, surprised at the pokemon's appearance. pleasantly so, of course. It sure made for an anticlimactic twist! He laughed at his silliness, honestly, getting all rilled up over a silly little bug pokemon! He moved the spear away from the wide-eyed pokemon.

"Oh look, Misty, it's a Ca-"

"BUG! AAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Misty screamed, almost literally into his ear. "Get it away, get it away, GET THAT THING AWAAAAAY!" she shouted, peering over his shoulder, "Get it with your stick, Lance!"

"But...it's a Caterpie?" he said, confused by her panic. How can you be afraid of something so small and...cute?

"IT'S A BUG TYPE! I HATE BUG TYPES!" she snapped, hysterical. "All their little legs and slippery or furry or scaly bodies, climbing all over your body, with their feelers, and spines, and slime, webs, nests, creepy crawlies, spiders, and, and-EUGH!" she shivered.

...well, this was new. Lance had honestly never dealt often with women outside of his personal circle of comrades, close friends, and family, which in the retrospect of female companions, composed of his cousin Clair, Agatha, Karen, and Lorelei. In all due respect, they weren't exactly typical females either, as not one of the women had ever given him indication of an irrational fear or pet peeve (unless you counted Clair's obvious irritation with her inability to beat her cousin and pass the test in the Dragon Den, whereas Lance had passed with flying colors, and beaten her effortlessly in every battle she went up against him in.) While the idea of many women and men in the world having pet peeves, irrational fears and discomforts wasn't unheard of and accepted to be real, he had never actually experienced such a reaction out of a woman over something like this.

Until Misty, obviously.

"So...you're afraid of Bug pokemon?"

"YES! Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!" she sobbed, "Now can you get rid of it! Or better yet-let's get out of here!"

Lance glanced at where they had finished another of her M-L-Smileyface engravings and pointed at it, "Wait for me over by that tree, kay?"

She stopped another tirade of panicked screaming and nonsensical rambling to stare at him, confused, "Huh? Why?"

"I'll get rid of the Caterpie, you just...uh... gotta go that way!" Insert Magnemite-bulb right over his head at that exact moment. "Yeah, don't want that Caterpie to crawl past me and get on you, do yo-"

ZZHOOM!

And just like that, she was hugging the tree for dear life, staring at his back in fear of the bug-type, entirely dependent on him to rid them of the evil Caterpie.

He laughed quietly, because honestly, how can she be afraid of something so small and harmless? He turned to the Caterpie, that was inching backward from him, frightened of their noise and of his much bigger figure.

"Easy, I'm not going to hurt you." he spoke, in a hushed voice so as to not be heard by Misty. "I just want to ask a few things." The Caterpie looked shy, but at the gentleness of his voice inched close.

He raised a palm to the "T" shaped antennae, and the bug-type inched closer, curious. "Don't be afraid. It won't hurt- it never does." And with that their eyes closed simultaneously and a thrum of power soared between him and the Caterpie.

Several minutes later, they parted ways, the Caterpie off to find more delicious plant leaves to eat, and Lance to Misty.

"There's a stream to the far west of where we are now. It and two larger streams all run into the same central river that flows into a delta that lets out into the ocean. " Lance spoke, contemplating. "It's a couple of hours of walking distance, maybe little less if we run. There also appear to be some caves on that rocky shelf near our shelter that we can hide in."

"Hide from what? And how do you know all this?" Misty asked, puzzled. She followed his lead as they started walking to her left, away from the spot the Caterpie had just been.

"A storm. Not as bad as the one from last night, but still bad enough that we need to hide from. It'll hit the island in a few days- two, I think."

"Fantastic. And again; how do you know all this?"

He frowned, though she couldn't see it from behind him. She seemed like a sweet girl, maybe a little tense and quick to voice her opinion, but his telepathy... not even Clair knew about it. It was something sort of sacred to him, not in the sense that it made him special or unique, but that he'd really just prefer to keep to himself. Partially because it would freak people out.

"Nothing. I just do."

Misty scoffed, "Like I'd believe that. You were doing something with that Caterpie... can you understand poke-talk?"

"No. It's a secret." he said, tense.

"Oh...can you tell me?"

"No." he growled, annoyed.

"Well why not?" she asked with a childish pout. "Can you understand poke-speak? Can you speak it? Or I know! You can use your mind like a Psychic an-"

"Look," he whipped his head back to face her over his shoulder, tense and voice hardened "it's nothing like that! It's my business and not yours! So quit asking!"  
Misty jumped back as if he'd burned her. For the barest moment her eyes glittered with surprise, hurt, and a sheen of water, and before he could look further she ducked her head down and hid her eyes with her orange fringe.

"Sorry." she mumbled, and that was all he could get out of her for several minutes of trudging through the forest floor.

Guilt riddled Lance, his mind conjuring up several images of him kicking himself. His inner voice had split into two, both nagging and spitting. Nice going, Dragon Master, not even a day's passed and you already ruined your chance at having a friend to keep you sane on this stupid island, spat one. Great job, you made a girl cry, Mr. Big Shot, growled the other.

Well, she shouldn't have been prying into your business! But you didn't have to snap, either. That's what she gets for being nosy! She's just curious; it's not her fault you're so secretive and she isn't. That's the point of a secret- that's her being nosy! No, that's just you being afraid of her and the rest of the world figuring out you're a freak.

Lance growled at his own inner argument, unaware he did it aloud. They stopped briefly, and he turned to Misty. He sighed, trying to come up with something-anything- while she glanced up at him then away to avoid eye contact.

He rubbed a hand through his wild red hair, inhaled, and faced her. "Look, Misty," she lifted her face a bit, aqua eyes making contact but only barely- it was hard to catch her irises among the orange, "I'm sorry for snapping like that. It's just...some things are better left alone. And that was one of them."

"That's what makes a secret a secret, I know." Suddenly she let eye contact flourish. To his pleasant surprise, her eyes were dry, not a tear staining them or her cheeks. Thank Mew, because he, along with many of the male population, had no idea what to do about a crying girl. "and I'm sorry for being so pushy and nosy!" she said with an embarrassed, borderline meek and apologetic smile, "I guess I couldn't stop my own curiosity, is all."

"R-right. Still, I shouldn't have snapped-"

"No, you shouldn't have." she agreed, which threw him off, and then she smiled cheekily, which equally threw him some more, "But it's okay! Apology accepted, on the condition that you accept mine! Deal?"

Negotiating forgiveness-this was definitely a first for the Dragon Master. The condition was so childlike coming from her, it was almost...dare he say it? Cute. She even stuck out her hand for him to shake it. Lance laughed, gently, still unsure of where the conversation might go, "Very well, I accept your terms. Apology accepted."

"Then your apology is accepted!" she said, and her hand grabbed his and shook it. "Then let's get to that river you mysteriously know the whereabouts of!"  
He nodded to her, and turn to continue walking. Offhandedly, Lance made sure she didn't see him shaking the hand that had been gripped by hers. Curiously, a strange tingling sensation lingered on the flesh and it just would not go away, no matter how much he flailed his wrist to force it away.

Curious.

Several seconds later through a content silence, suddenly Misty piped up, "Is it at least something cool?"

And curiouser.

He was sorely tempted to sigh, but a gentle, exasperated chuckle made do. "Depends on your definition of 'cool'."

"Oh...cool."

-o00o-

Water.

Fresh, ice cold, rushing water.

Water had never tasted so good!

"I am never going back to soda, ever!" swooned Misty, water drops on her hands and lips.

After an hour or so of traversing through the forest, sometimes walking other times running, Lance and Misty had finally reached the first real sign of water. Now, the stream was relatively small, a few feet wide, six, maybe eight inches deep with a few rocks poking out from the bed. If he looked to his right, he would see it curve multiple times upward until the trees blocked his view. To his left, if he strained enough, he'd be able to see where the stream started deepening, widening, and bend a new direction, presumable to eventually connect with the main river. Neither size or depth affected the rhythm of the water's movement, however, as the clear liquid rushed past on its way.

It was cold to the touch, despite the climate, clear as crystal, and as they swallowed mouthful after mouthful, found it quenched both their thirst unlike any soda ever could. The cold felt so good on their sun-baked skin that when Misty voiced her temptation to just soak in it, Lance replied by dunking his head in and letting the stream water clean the salt and sweat from his scalp, face, eyes and such and cool him.

Heat? What heat?

When his lungs demanded air he threw his head back and gasped. Arceus, it felt amazing! Water droplets flooded down his head, past his neck and into his shirt, while a few escaped to drop to the ground, or his hands. He heard a flighty, soft laugh and turned to find Misty, a little past ankle-deep in the water, watching him, or something in his vicinity, eyes becoming suddenly distant and clouded.

"Something the matter?" he asked, curious, and a little uncomfortable.

She shook her head, "Nah. Just...thinking about Azurill. I bet she'd love to play in this, splash a whole bunch of water everywhere, swim all around..." the sadness, hurt, and dare he say it, hopelessness that clutched to her voice was almost too much for him to bear.

He got to his feet, about to go over and try to comfort her with words, a hand on the shoulder, anything, when she continued with a sigh.

"I know survival comes first... but I just can't help thinking about Azurill! I miss that hyperactive ball of water-loving fur..." she said as she sighed, and it almost appeared like she sank into herself as air left her lungs. A harsh, sardonic chuckle stopped him from voicing anything right as his mouth opened. "Look at me, look at how I'm acting, in front of the Champion of Kanto, for Mew's sake! I must look pathetic to you, don't I?"

He wasn't sure whether her question was rhetorical or not, but he still felt obliged to answer.

"No, of course not, Misty! Any one in this world who loves their pokemon would be just as heartbroken and worried over their pokemon as you! Including me! So don't ever feel ashamed to show your feelings about your friends and pokemon in front of anyone, especially me."

That's what he wanted to say. But he didn't.

Misty kicked at the water, some of it splashing onto Lance that mostly went unnoticed. "Misty?"

She offered him a false smile, one that failed to cover up her emotions, but he could clearly see the effort she was putting up. Because really, who wants to look broken and pathetic in front of their hero? "I'm fine."

She refused to speak on the subject further, so wordlessly they drank their fill of the stream, and as she silently carved into the trees the M-L-smileyface carvings, Lance wondered to himself if only there were some way to rid his companion of the storm cloud hanging over her head, something achievable and not something that could end in failure or death.

Lance couldn't think of much, save for finding that damn Azurill.

Strangely, he realized he hadn't put much thought into including Rescue as one. Honestly... he didn't really feel like putting too much faith in it either.

* * *

Lance, you pessimist. Hasn't even been one day and you're already giving up? Sheesh I fail.

I miss Misty and her bug phobia :C

Also, I think Caterpie's are probably the cutest buggies I've ever seen, tied right beside Joltik. Der so KYOOT.

Not a survival expert, so if something isn't right, do correct me.

If you like this, review. Fave's are nice... but reviews are better.

If no like, review and tell me so.

If not, I'll just continue anyway. Whenever I get around to it. C:

... "Get it with your stick, Lance!"

-KO13


	5. Chapter 5

To the following:

Topaz Dragon- Oh ho, you only _think_ I'm looking away. ;P Yeah, that Gyarados-Tentacruel episode... feckin epic, bro.

japaneserockergirl- The Pokemon Adventures manga saw to fixing that aspect, for me. He doesn't necessarily rage or get ridiculously angry just...Lance get's a bit intense here and there. And I agree, Water/SeaDragonshipping makes more sense but, alas, beggars, or in this case, late shippers, can't be choosers. :/

asdf ()- you're not missing much. Just a bunch of new teams in ash's ever growing repertoire of pokemon, new people, same game, ditches last girl gets a new one every new region... oh, and for Unova Brock went home to become a pokedoctor, so we've got another tracey, except his name is Cilan. Not that I've been watching, just more or less get curious as to where the anime is and checks bulbapedia. And it's just not a fic with Misty as a main character if there isn't at least one freak-out with bugs, to me C:

Unleashed111- lol no not at all, in fact welcome aboard, hope you enjoy the ride! And as for his little secret- we shall see. B3

And so here's the second half to what used to be one long as hell chapter split in two!

And for the record, I had told myself I wouldn't feature anything really romantic or highly intensive until a few certain things had occurred...

Apparently I lied to myself. I cannot trust MYSELF OHMAHGAWD *explode*

And, since I know this might be an issue here; I'm going to go ahead and apologize for OOCness. It happens to the best of us.

* * *

The sun's heat was beginning to lose its power as they traversed back through the forest, following Misty's carved marks, and as the sky began losing its blue hue and the bright intensity, a sense of haste quickened his and Misty's heartbeat. The Caterpie had proven there were pokemon on the island. The question was what other species were there, and could they avoid confrontation or conflict with them? Lance could put up a good argument or fight, depending on what pokemon was before them, and what the situation called for, but he wasn't so sure he could protect Misty and himself from something big or strong, like an Ursaring, a pack of Mightyena, or mew-forbid, an elemental pokemon like Hondoom, Luxray, or other pokemon. And being out and lost at night was just asking for death, and Lance was not willing to gamble with death.

They hastened through the trees and shrubbery, and occasionally if he glanced at just the right moment Lance could swear he saw a pair of Spinarak spinning their web, a few Rattata or a mother Furret with her Sentret young scurrying up trees into their nests, and even the wide-eyed gaze of a Hoot-hoot peering from the shadow of a hollow in a tree as they passed. He knew she could see them too, especially as she gripped onto his arm and squeaked everytime she spotted what he assumed to be a bug-type pokemon.

The beach came into view, along with their assorted claimings from the washed-up luggage and they gathered them together, Misty with the journal, water bottles, and his clothes while he carried her claimed clothes, and the coconut bag. They headed back to where Lance's small shelter was. Misty laid out leaves on the sand and set their claimed items in assorted piles around the shelter and set up twigs and particularly thick leaves to arch over each pile while Lance, using what light they would have left before the sun finally set and be covered in darkness, set out to dehusk and break open a few of the earlier gathered coconuts.

It was hard and tricky, just as Misty had said. The green husk was thick, and he only took the time to cut open a small sliver, enough to get his fingers in before he pried the husk off and peeled it. Then, when the straw-like fibers were mostly removed and the black nut exposed, he tried to break it open by smashing the rock against the shell.

The first time he tried, the rock shattered in his hand. Second time-same thing.

"Want help?" Misty asked, crouched beside him, having heard the few but audible curses escape his lips both times the rocks had shattered.

Pride demanded he say no. But really, with survival on the line, did he really have a choice? "Please." he huffed.

She giggled, finding something funny about him and the situation, and whatever it was eluded and puzzled him, but he shook it away. He intently watched her finger the shattered pieces of the rocks until she found one particularly sharp and one particularly thick satisfactory.

"You skin them better than me, I'll give you that." she said, plopping down beside him, "When me and my friends went to that one island in the Orange Islands, like I told you before, we were taught a few ways to open them, and this one I found to be the easiest for me. The trick isn't brute force over a large area. Try that and either you'll break more rocks, or break the coconut the wrong way and the juice inside will spill out and you'll lose most of it." she explained first, and he watched as she dug the tip of the rock into the surface facing up, and began twisting it around, like a drill or a screw.

"The trick is to drill into it, bit by bit until it's weak enough that you can just nail the rock into it, and only that hole you made opens." Several minutes later, she stopped her furious rock-drilling, but kept the sharp-pointed rock where it was inside the small indention she had carved. Taking the thick rock, she moved her hand from being on top and gripped the sharp one by the side.

"And now you just lightly hammer into it until it gives." And she did just that; using the thick rock as a hammer and the sharp drill one as her nail, she firmly, but not hard, smacked the thick "hammer" rock onto the top of the "nail" rock. Cracking noises rewarded each tap, and when her "nail" rock suddenly sank in just by a hair more than it should, Misty grinned. She pulled out the rock, set it down, placed her lips close to the hole, and took one solid swig.

Clear juice spilled out from the drilled hole into her mouth, which Lance almost felt...wrong, and oddly dirty, watching, that he really shouldn't, that he should be concentrating on how he might mimic her instructions and break another coconut. But he couldn't help stare at how the clear coconut juice slipped into the welcoming opening of her lips, and the tantalizing drop that escaped its fate and instead rested on the corner of her bottom lip. It bended low, ready to start a teasing trail down her ne-

"Try it, Lance! Tastes pretty sweet, if you like the tangyness." her voice suddenly snapped him out of whatever foreign trail of thought had been developing in his brain. It took several embarrassing seconds for his mind, caught up in a frightening whirlwind of thoughts, images, and ideas he had a huge suspicion to be very...well, inappropriate, to respond to the realization that she was holding out the breached coconut to him, for him to drink from too.

And hopefully, for the love of Arceus, she would have absolutely no idea what had been going through his head at that exact moment, as he grabbed the now-offensive nut from her hands. He whirled it lightly in his hand, like one might a wine glass, and heard swishing inside; there was still plenty of liquid inside, that Misty had indeed only taken a swallow or two, despite how excruciatingly long time felt it had slowed when she-

Okay, you need to stop, Lance, he berated himself. You're just asking for trouble, for both yourself and her. This is really,_ really, REALLY_ not the time to let hormones affect your judgement.

And so, without further ado, he tipped the coconut to his lips and allowed the juice inside to flow down his throat. He almost sputtered at first, shocked by the initial taste- it was so sharp and tangy, that it was almost biting. But the sweetness smoothed over the edges like honey, making the flavor both tangy and mild. It was definitely different from any other flavor he'd come across, and much stronger than the knock-off flavoring in the little cakes and desserts, smoothies, drinks, and other food he'd experienced.

"Like it?" Misty pried, and Lance had managed to remove his lips from the husk and handed it to her for her to finish (making sure to look in every direction but her as she drank) and shrugged with a smile.

"Not bad. Not bad at all."

As the last of the light dissipated from the sky Lance and Misty had successfully skinned and opened three more coconuts, downed the contents, and using the arbok dagger even shaved off the meat inside after cracking them all the way open, which instead of being hard like he had imagined it to be, was almost gelatinous, though he could definitely feel the stringiness as his fingers separated meat from shell. The meat tasted just like the juice, but perhaps not quite so strong and with a detected hint of nuttiness. It wasn't much to eat on with just four coconuts, but they definitely felt better after it was devoured and finally had something for their stomach to digest.

A star-drowned sky greeted them as nighttime passed over them, with little but the ocean waves washing and crashing on shore, and the ocean breeze making the coconut and palm trees to sway and creak to break the silence that had overtaken the two ship-wrecked companions. It was breathtaking to see, all the thousands of stars, bright and numerous than ever seen before, with the waxing crescent moon giving a bit of extra light to see with, and making a white reflection across the waters.

Of course, it would have been better if it hadn't been for the lingering knowledge that the stars, ocean, moon, and atmosphere were their only other accompaniment, that despite its beauty they were still, when it came down to it, stranded on some unknown, uninhabited island with no technology or raft or way off the island. It made for quite an atmosphere, the despair of their situation and the ironic beauty of their surroundings.

Using fallen palm tree leaves and then Lance's long cape as a buffer between them and the sand, and the critters that might lie within the grains. It was a tight fit, as he had suspected, though perhaps made a bit easier to manage with the two of them curled up as comfortably as could be, and back to back. He felt terribly awkward even so.

Just her presence as a female disturbed him, now that night had fallen, and all they had left to do was sleep and pray they would live through the night and another day. He wasn't sure what could possibly occur, now that all it would take for them to be invasively close was the simple action of turning the other direction. His body demanded sleep, needed it, but how could he when his mind was boggled with a thousand and one imaginative simulations of just what could happen at any moment with her so close in proximity?

It was nerve-wracking, and after several minutes of minor shuffling, Lance found it only got worse as time passed, and the longer he stayed awake. But he couldn't possibly go to sleep, not with a _girl_ right next to him, closer than he'd ever before experienced, his body was on full alert. Hell, even when he was a kid and stayed with Clair and his uncle, neither cousin ever felt the need or desire to sleep together-and as he had grown up, he became so involved with the League, his duties as Champion, the G-Men agent gig, and other such stuff that he never had much time to actually get intimate with anyone. His experience with the female kind was therefor horribly crippled and made him several feelings in regards to women; terrified, nervous, embarrassing, and shy.

Lance exhaled a shaky breath, and whispered to his mind, just calm down. Nothing's happened so far, so nothing will. Besides, if the heavy, labored breathing beside him was any indication, Misty was fast asleep.

...wait a minute. Heavy and l-

"Misty?" he whispered, cautious. He needed to make sure, but if she really was asleep he didn't want to wake her. But if he was correct, and he wasn't mistaking the wind or something with her breathing pattern...

Suddenly her breath hitched, and he knew at just that moment, a few things. One, she was as wide-awake as he was, Two, he's an idiot for not realizing it earlier, and Three, that he was probably going to end up making a fool out of himself for the next few minutes.

She sniffled-yep, crying- and in a tremor answered, "W-what?"

"...can't sleep either, huh?" he kicked himself mentally. Stupid question!

A shuffle of hair against the cape signaled a head movement, but she must have realized that he couldn't see what she was doing as she whimpered, "No."

"...Azurill?"

Another sniffle, the smallest squeak like a hiccup, was the first thing he heard and then in a meek voice she said, "Yes...and s-some other s-stupid stuff..."

"If it were stupid, you wouldn't be crying." he replied, sounding much more confident and strong than he really was. His thoughts and self-doubt plagued him; what was she hurt over, really? Was he saying the right things? Would he make her feel better, if only for now? Could he?

Misty sniffled, took a moment to try to calm down as he heard her inhale, then harshly exhale. He felt her shuffle, trying to curl up tighter, as if she could protect herself from whatever pain she was feeling. Lance wished he could do the same, but his male pride refused to let him even acknowledge when he was in pain. A vaguely harsh voice in his brain even dared to whisper that really, it was her own business and he should stay far from it so as not to get caught by it.

His male pride, however, also declared that a female crying in his presence was unacceptable, and needed to be solved _ASAP_. So, despite all the thoughts in his head, the meek ones that were terrified of the female species that spoke millions of voices at once, he lifted up a bit and flipped over onto his other side to be able to get just a tad bit closer to Misty, so as to try to comfort her.

He did not expect to come face to face with her.

Confidence thoroughly shot itself and fell out a window, somewhere in a place far away, because his eyes caught the glittering of water falling from her aquamarine eyes, illuminated by the small slivers of light from the moon and stars outside that peeked through the small open slits where leaves did not cover above. Something deep inside, hidden so deep he had never even known of its existence, suddenly charged in and for a brief moment overtook every feeling he had going on.

Suddenly, the only thing he wanted to do was Hyper Beam the sadness in her eyes away forever, and make her smile. He saw the orange curtain that tried to hide the tears in her eyes, hide the pains in her heart, hide her from what lied in waiting for them. He saw a hurt, lonely Dratini, stranded from its family and home, with no one to keep her safe and alive but a stranger who she only knew by the television that worshiped him, and somewhere out there her baby, lost and alone.

Metaphorically, of course, as Misty was definitely not a pokemon.

"Misty, listen, it-"

Suddenly Misty scooched closer, and on the inside Lance was freaking. If the back-to-back hadn't been nerve-wracking enough, this was like a full-on invasion of personal space. She was so invasively close! He could feel her breath, hot and humid, heavy on his nape, which sent tingling wanton chills up his spine, and her small hands clutched at his thin tank shirt, the white one that had been dirtied by all the sweat and dirt he had climbed through during the day. It probably smelled horrible, but Misty seemed unfazed at the moment, content with burying her face into the small dip between his neck and his collar bone, which was sending him shockwaves that sent his nerves on a frenzy.

It was the increasing wetness accumulating on his skin, and the invigorated, unhindered sobs that tore his attention away from whatever foreign feelings his body was going through, however. Her crying had come back, after that short respite from it, and it did not look like she was going to let go and release him to repairing his barriers, anytime soon.

He wanted to push her away, but Misty had managed to slip underneath his free arm, and his other was occupied at keeping itself from falling asleep and losing feeling. And he didn't really want to seem mean or rude; the opposite, he wanted to get her to stop crying, maybe even smile to show she was okay, and sleep easy. It was just...so _close_!

"...'m sorry." she stuttered into his chest.

He inhaled, forcing his body under control-pathetic, Lance, you're supposed to be the dragon master, not some petty teenager with no control over his own hormones!- and forced his body to relax.

"Don't apologize." he forced out. He was having trouble pulling in his body, but slowly, steadily it was working. His nerves were jumpy, but at least they weren't electrified.

"It's going to be okay." he cooed, unable to come up with much to say to soothe the carrot-headed girl. Woman. Actually, come to think of it, he didn't exactly know her age. Hm. He tried to think of things someone might do for him to soothe him when he was a wreck... except, pathetically, he couldn't ever remember being comforted by somebody. So, he thought up the only things he could, repeats and reversions of "it's okay".

It seemed to work, sort of. Her sobs had turned into soft hiccups-which were sort of surprising, and endearing as it sounded like the tiny squeak of a kitten-and her grip on his shirt had loosened considerably. She was still glued to his front, granted, but it was easier as she calmed.

"Az'rill..."

"We'll find her." he replied, daring to slightly tighten the hold his arm loosely had draped over her side, " I'll help you find her, Misty." he swore, "We'll find your Azurill. "

"Lance?"

"And...and we'll get off this island." he shoved aside the deep, dark voice in his head that whispered, 'Yeah, as if there's a way I'll get us home."

A small, half-hearted smile lifted her lips-which he felt, no thanks to the proximity, and thus sent an electric current through his veins for the billionth time that night. "Is this the part where you say, I promise somehow?"

"No." he admitted, "This is the part where I say I promise, period. It's going to be okay."

She nuzzled close. "...m'kay."

Calm down, calm down, calm down_ calm down_...!

"Good. Now go to sleep."

A small, sweet laugh followed, "Yes _sir_."

Silence lapsed after that, the only sound that of the ocean breeze, the ocean waves, and the breathing of either survivor.

Silently, Lance found the corners of his lips twitching upward as he drifted off into sleep, satisfied with the peaceful rhythm of his companion's pulse, breathing, and the eased expression of her sleeping face.

* * *

Lance, freaking out over dumb stuff. And SadMisty is Sad. And I do not actually like this chapter. Hrm...

And forgive me if the whole coconut fiasco isn't correct. Ironically, I actually hate the taste of coconut, and haven't eaten anything with it in forever, so I based it purely off memory. Which is fluffy. Like Whimsicott.

So cute. 3

Not a survival expert, so if something isn't right, do correct me. I am several times during writing looking up survival guides, tips, and stuff in regards to stranded on an island (and, admittedly, watched Cast Away) for resources, but alas, the internet has been known to lie. So correct me when I'm wrong, if you know better.

If you like this, review. Fave's are nice... but reviews are better.

If no like, review and tell me so.

If not, I'll just continue anyway. Whenever I get around to it. C:

"Hey Lance, are you 'bored'?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Cause I'd really like to _nail_ you! ;D"

If only.

-KO13


	6. Chapter 6

To the following:

asdf- funnily enough, I got that tech from Cast Away XD Oh Tom Hanks. Always inspiring the best of us to get stranded on islands and making Wilsons. The coconut meat though-internet. LOTS of internet'ing.

Unleashed11- Thank you! C:

pokemongirl29- Thank you, I'm glad to know you're liking it so far! And glad you think so- I keep looking at how it's going and wondering "am I making them handle this like two real stranded people would?", "how hysterical or calm they should be here", and it's quite a bit to handle, being that I've never experienced being stranded (unless you count the age old incident of parent-forgets-child-at-daycare/school, lol). Also, I can see Lance as the type to refuse comfort but offer everything he's got to comfort somebody else. He's always come off as a sweetheart, to me. But that's just what I've inferred from the games and anime version. Manga version Lance is so radically different that it's less WTF-funny and more WTF-shocking. 8/

also, japaneserockergirl- already said this, but love your Pokemon Bronze-Steel fic, LOVE IT. LOVE. Can't wait for an update!

I'm going to go ahead and apologize for OOCness. It happens to the best of us.

Also, be prepared for an abrupt POV shift. Thought it'd be as good of a time as ever.

* * *

Early morning came way too soon.

Being a habitual early bird from the years and years of being forced up at the crack of dawn, Lance had found himself abruptly removed from the dream world and immediately blinded by the tiny slivers of sunlight that peered through the cracks in the leaves. It had taken him several minutes to bring his mind out the haze clouding it, and force it out of its sleepy state and to full alertness. The task of which went rather quickly in comparison to other mornings considering he was wide-awake and alert (perhaps a little too much...) when his mind registered just _how much_ space was between him and Misty; which is to say there was _none_.

He was coiled around her, and she curled into him, with his arm draped over her middle and one of hers wrapped around that same arm. Some of her fingers were entangled into the strands of his hair on the back of his neck, and the lightest move of his head had her fingers pulling slightly at the hair and it drove something very bad and very... primal inside of him crazy. Her lightly snoring face (girls snoring-that was news to Lance too) was buried in the crook of his neck too. Her orange hair barely tickled his chin, and every breath on his neck left the flesh tingling and an unwelcome surf of electrified warmth down his body, and if she moved a certain way her knee would press into his lower abdomen, just a hair's breadth away from- yeah, much too close to each other.

It had taken some careful and patient moves (with several close-call instances that sent his heart racing faster than the winning race Rapidash at a derby, and with a much clearer understanding of the female anatomy) but Lance had eventually managed to untangle himself from his sleeping companion and shuffle his way out of their stick-leaf shelter and into the sunshine of the morning. He had to take several minutes to simply breathe and calm his wildly thumping heart. Was that how _every_ night was going to be like? A nervous storm of emotions, and personal space invasion that would send a primal fire through him while little Misty just obliviously sleeps away?

Which, actually reminded him; they didn't have any fire. Wouldn't they need that to cook fish and anything they could catch? Not to mention use it to signal ships and planes.

If any came by, of course.

Right; he'd need some dry wood, obviously. They didn't have any flint, and he was pretty sure they had no lens or anything of the sort to magnify the sunlight or something. Maybe he'd have to rub one stick in between his hands while it was atop a thicker piece of wood until smoke formed, like in the movies. Did that ever actually work, anyway? Oh, and he'd need something light that would easily catch flame and get the fire to transfer to the bigger firewood.

Aha!, Lance thought, the journal. Paper burns instantly. It'd be perfect for starting the fire off.

...where did Misty put it again?

-o00o-

Morning came way too soon.

Misty had always been a late riser, even during her traveling days with Ash and Brock. Yes, she could get up earlier than Ash, and there were occasions where she found her sleep world breaking early at six. However, for the most part, Misty coveted her sleep, and if it were up to her and not the League-induced gym schedule, she would sleep in until ten or eleven every day. Oh, if only.

It couldn't have been later than eight, as Misty broke from the dream world and shuffled in a daze out of the leaf-stick shelter, famished, parched, and exhausted by the ridiculous amount of emotional torment she'd been feeling as of late. Ridiculous, yes, perhaps even juvenile. But it didn't stop her from feeling it, and it tore at her. Was her little baby Azurill alright? Was she hurt? Was she being bullied by a bunch of wild pokemon? Being eaten? Or, and Misty always paled here, learning how to pretend to be a bug type pokemon by a bunch of nasty bugs?

And what of her other pokemon? Gyarados, Corsola, Psyduck, Politoad... were they okay? Were they in their pokeballs, lost to the ocean's surf? Or separated and lost in the ocean currents amongst masses of other ocean-living pokemon?

Man, she'd prefer they be in their pokeballs! At least the pokeballs had a seal of the Cerulean Gym's Cascade Badge, and couldn't have ID number encrypted inside changed and stolen! Then they'd be safe from thieves, and easily sent back to the gym, safe and far away from this torment. Not to mention the ocean-for Mew's sake, Psyduck couldn't even_ swim_!

Oh right, supposed to be waking up, Misty was reminded as she rubbed away the sleep and grit from her eyes. But if was so hard to...not when sleep was still right there, right back in the leaf-stick shelter, waiting for her to grasp for it in the folds of Lance's cape-

-hold that thought.

"HOLY MEW I just slept side by side with-with LANCE!"

"What about me?" came his voice from behind her and Misty screamed in surprise and jumped away from the sudden intrusion. Lance or no Lance, who was carrying a bundle of dry sticks in one arm while the other free hand rested on his hip, the sudden sound of his voice had scared her unguarded self, with his eyes watching her curiously.

"Don't _scare_ me like that!" she gasped, "Ya could have given me a heart attack you j-" Wait a minute, Misty, some small little voice inside of her spoke, this is _Lance_ we're talking to. THE Lance, THE Undefeated Champion of Kanto, Proud Member of the Elite Four, sole member of the Pokemon G-Men (whatever that was) and THE Second-to-none Dragon Master.

This guy is NOT Ash, Brock, Ritchie, Tracey, Psyduck, Rudy, or some other guy you're familiar with, and treat as such.

...who, despite her still-on-going crush on Ash, Misty had to admit he had some _pret-ty nice_ biceps, if the muscles flexing in his arm to keep an easy grip on the large amount of what was probably firewood was any indication. Pale white lines of scars glinted teasingly, some looking deep, and some barely standing out, but all of them incidentally and subtly enhancing the impressive build. The black shirt they had confiscated yesterday, now with its sleeves ripped off to nothing but nape-cuts that let loose to her vision his toned limbs, really showed a few other choice things with how it hugged his frame.

Okay, Misty, she stopped and started scolding herself, don't, for the love of Mew, go crazy-fangirl on him. Poor man probably gets girls flinging themselves at him so rabidly he has to fight them off with a stick! And now that you're stuck on a deserted island, and dependent on each other for survival, that will really be the worst way to possibly start off this whole surviving partnership thing you need going on!

"I-I-I mean, uh, good morning!" she said, forcing on a smile. If he didn't believe it be a real one, but the nervous fake for what it was, Misty wouldn't blame him. Brock loved to tell her that her poker face sucked and she was a failure at lying (for the most part, as she had done pretty good at covering up her real feelings with that whole bike story with Ash.)

(Then again, if you took a really crappy blue mask, slapped it on a Tauros and told people it was a Mamoswine, Ash would very likely be the first to believe it... he was really oblivious sometimes...)

She was being scrutinized for a moment, she knew, before Lance shrugged it away as nothing, and echoed back, "Morning... did you, uhm, sleep well?" he asked, tentatively.

"Huh? Oh!" he meant that as in, after that whole depression, and crying stuff that had happened that night! Misty blushed, how embarrassing! Lance must have been so humiliated, dealing with an emotional wreck of a girl! Geez, Misty, she snapped to herself, what ever happened to that tough and no-nonsense tomboy girl? "Uhm...yeah. I did." she replied, before a sweet, genuine smile crept up. "Thanks." She meant it, too. To some tiny, girly voice inside her's delight, he replied with a brief, shy "You're welcome."

Her dreams had still been less than desirable, but they were a far cry from the nasty ones she had woken from the day before, after washing up on shore. At least in last night's some of the biggest terrors from before had been chased away in her dream by, if she remembered correctly, a dragon pokemon of some sort. Despite how unnervingly close to each other they had gotten last night (and yes, she will take most of the blame) and how unused Misty was to the company of another beside her as she slept, she had found it rather easy to fall asleep, after all was cried for and done. Hard to refuse sleep after a long day of exhaustion, physically and emotionally.  
Funny, she laughed to herself, that a _dragon_ pokemon had chased away the biggest terrors in her dream, and there she had been, sleeping next to the _dragon_ master himself. Maybe it was because...

Oh, Misty, you're just being silly.

"So, uh, what's with the sticks?" she asked, steering away the conversation.

"Firewood."

"Oh! So you're making a fire?"

"Already made one." he said with a proud smirk. It soon faded into something mildly inquisitive, though, "By the way, where did you put that journal we found the other day? I was looking for the paper, but since I couldn't find it at all, I had to make do with that straw-fiber stuff between the coconut husk and the nut itself."

Misty thought back to the day that had passed, searching through her memory like a child does their messy room. To be honest, she couldn't remember. All she remembered was throwing it into the pile of their claimed stuff, then trying to organize all their new belongings and not be distracted so much by the random smack of rock against coconut, or the sound of rock shattering into thin pieces in submittance. In all honesty, she had stopped in the middle of her rather pitiful job of organizing and decided it more constructive to help Lance in coconut-busting.

"I don't quite remember. I know it's somewhere in our stuff, but that's about it..."

"Hrm...ah well, the fiber-straw stuff seems to be doing its job just as well, I suppose." he said with a shrug. Misty followed him to the fire he had apparently made, which was just a few feet away from their small sleeping shelter.

It was a small fire, but it looked tons better than the kind Misty had ever made (the kind that ranged from one tiny little pathetic ember to forest fires, Ash joked once-not that he ever did any better of course.) There was a blackened, burned out pile of something small, fluffed, and straw-like dead center underneath a messy, but burning stack of wood currently feeding a bright, healthy, but relatively small flame. Lance had dug up a small barrier of sand around it to prevent embers from escaping and catching something on fire too, and he placed the bundle in his arm next to the fire. He then began feeding a few sticks on top, and Misty watched them be greedily consumed by the flames.

It wasn't the big, stew-cooking fire Brock always made on their journeys way back when, but it would certainly do for their purposes...whatever Lance planned for them to be, at least.

"It's not a bonfire," he admitted, "but I think it'll serve its purpose well enough."

"Like cooking stuff?"

He laughed at her vocabulary, grabbing for the spear he had made the other day and rising to his feet, "Yep, like cooking stuff."

"And what exactly are you planning to cook...?" she wondered, good humor in her voice.

"Oh, well, you know, there's the coconut trees all spread across this giant, hot beach, and then there's the boundless amount of fish in the ocean that are swimming oh so innocently in those shallows," he gestured to, "and I happen to be carrying this spear..."

Misty rolled her eyes at him before she could catch herself, "Yeah yeah yeah, go spear some unlucky fishy."

"And you?" he asked.

"I..." actually, what could she do? She didn't want to just sit around and do nothing; she wanted to be useful, to be approved of by the Champion, "I-I'm filling these," she held up the empty husks of the coconuts, the few they hadn't split open to eat the meat out of anyway, " with water at that stream we found." Wow, Mist, she scolded herself, that sounded way better in your head.

"So we don't have to walk back and forth to the river?" he said, considering, "...huh. Smart! Okay." he nodded with a smile, "Take one of the water bottles with you." he said, "Oh, and-"

She held up the arbok dagger, "This?"

He went silent for a second, before nodding, "Just to be safe." Dull edged or not, enough force could make any decorative weapon as deadly as a real one.

She mock-saluted with her hand, "You got it."

-o00o-

Like last time, she had settled on marking the way she had gone (directly from their camp to the stream this time) with the arbok dagger and had been pleasantly surprised to find the distance between the stream and their camp to be far shorter than their last walk. Granted, she had been lightly jogging to it to maximize time, but hey, it still felt hella shorter than yesterday's!

First thing Misty had done was splash the cold fresh water to her heated face. Jeez, it was so hot! Perhaps the jogging hadn't been so great an idea? She was tired like no joke, knees weak and just a tad bit wobbly.

Okay, definitely walking on the way back!, Misty had decided.

All the coconuts she had brought with her were filled up with the stream water, tucked under a few rocks so as not to float away down the stream, and to catch water while she caught her breath and downed the last bit of the water in the plastic bottle.

Misty had allowed five minutes, or what she hoped was five, she didn't have a watch or her pokegear on her (and oh how it would be missed...) of rest before refilling the water bottle, picking up the water-filled coconut shells and heading back.

She wondered if she was doing good so far, on the way to and from the stream. She wanted to say yes, but Misty wasn't so sure. Yeah, she had helped with picking out stuff form the luggage, and the coconuts, but really, was that all she would be able to do? Was that all little Misty had to offer to help their keeping alive? A few coconut-shelling and water runs?

She certainly hoped not. What use is a companion for surviving if that was all she could do? Crying seemed to be all she did lately... She didn't even have that pretty face or body like her sisters to offer-not that she would do, er, _that_... Then there was the whole matter with her Azurill, and her pokemon, her family and friends, the gym... so many things she missed, and worried over-still worried over! Was Azurill really out somewhere on the same island as she and Lance, and was she okay? What about her other pokemon? Were they safe from evil hands, and alive?

Her sisters- did they know about the ship wreck? Did they believe their sister to be dead, or were they clinging to the hope that she was alive? Were they taking care of the gym, the pokemon, and themselves? Were they okay?

And then her friends- Brock stopped by routinely for visits (and to be a stupid fanboy over the Sensationals...) so if her sisters knew, he would know, and then soon Tracey, Professor Oak, Mrs. Ketchum, Ash, and a whole other crowd of people would know about the ship wreck by him, if not the news report of it. But what then? Did they miss her? Believe her dead? Alive? Were they preparing a desperate journey to the ocean to find her?

Of course Ash wouldn't, she scolded herself for thinking otherwise. He's too busy with his stupid Pokemon Master dream to ever notice anything else besides- just like he never noticed her feelings for him. And even if he were to know...what could _he_ do? He was regions and regions away in Unova, probably half-way across the world from whatever stupid island she and Lance were stranded on.

Misty still held onto the faint, tiny hope he'd come on his mighty Charizard and rescue them but...

She wiped the tears prickling her eyes away. Quit this crying stuff, Misty! she bitterly snapped, no one wants or needs a crybaby for a companion, not the Champion himself, and definitely not Ash!

Speaking of whom, Misty wondered as she cleared the jungle to their camp, toting water-filled coconuts and nary a scratch on her, how was his fishing going? Probably swimmingly, she mused, placing her water-filled burdens down on the sand and feeding some much needed sticks into the small fire still going, before heading towards the shallow water pools. She couldn't really see him being even average in anything-he would probably excel at whatever was thrown at him as greatly as that man excelled in pokemon.

Well, she stopped herself abruptly, caught by surprise, that's not entirely true.

Because unknown to the Champion himself, she was now just a little ways behind him and could see... well...

"For the love of Mew, Lance, you can brutally defeat every trainer the League throws at you, but you can't catch one! Stupid! Fish!" he snarled loudly, unaware of the audience behind him. He threw his spear into the water, where Misty could glance at a few fishies swimming around it, but the pointed tip missing by several inches. He shrieked with frustration, "SO lucky I don't have Dragonite here to Hyper Beam you!" and kicked the water.

He _kicked_ the _water_.

The _Champion_, the Undefeated titan of the Indigo and Silver League, the Dragon Master, just kicked the water an-oh MEW.

He was _pouting_.

POUTING!

If there was ever a time Misty felt the overwhelming urge to laugh at the astronomical silliness of the concept of the Dragon Master himself throwing a tantrum and pouting like a kid, that very moment seemed as good as ever, because she was helpless to contain the uncontrollable, irrepressible guffaws that flooded out like a broken dam.

It was just so...so shocking! She had never before pictured it possible for someone as awe-inspiring and untouchable as Lance to be capable of, well, that! And here he was before her, in a frustrated fit, kicking water, and the pout-oh Arceus, the _pout_! His eyebrows furrowed deep, eyes staring death at the marine life in the shallow water pool, nose wrinkling, arms crossed tight against his chest, and his lower lip jutting out farther than his upper-there were just no words to describe how strikingly different it looked on him and...

... and...how hysterically _adorable_!

"M-Misty!" he jumped at the sound of her laughter, proceeding to blush in embarrassment. "Oh-Oh no, how long were you-?"  
She laughed harder, if possible.

"This isn't-I-s-stop laughing!" he snapped, offended at her humor for the situation. "This isn't funny!"

Okay, okay, calm down a bit Mist, she tried to reign back her laughter and smooth over. It was so hard though! She had that image of the Champion forever encrypted into her brain!

"I'm try-y-ing," she stuttered in between giggles, "I'm-I'm sorry, I'm not laughing at you, I promise!"

"No you're not." he growled, arms crossing over each other while an angry "humph" puffed from within his chest. "That's definitely laughing at me!"

"I'm not!" she cried back, finally gaining some control over her giggles and catching her breath, "I'm not laughing at you, I mean it! I don't mean to make you mad, it's just I never...ever... thought that... uhm..."

The miffed anger still remained in his body language but at the hiatus of her sentence he couldn't help but become intrigued, "Never thought what?"

"I...well, you know, you always hear that phrase 'nobody's perfect' or 'flawless' or whatever and everybody does something better than the other but it just...it just never really occurred to me that the same goes for..."

"Me?" he finished for her. Misty nodded. Lance watched her deflating body language then shrugged, "Well, I'm not going to lie; this..." he gestured to the water-floating spear and the fishies swimming about tauntingly at him, "...is not exactly my forte."

"I can tell-I-I mean, uhm, that's okay! I can't cook!" Misty hastily added, hoping her first sentence hadn't re-offended him.

"Say what now?"

"I can't cook." she repeated.

He laughed, "Oh come now, don't be so hard on yourse-"

"I once burned ramen noodles so bad it was stuck to the bottom of the pot and was all black and stuff." Misty huffed. She racked her brain for another of her humiliating attempts at cooking, "I once tried to make poffins-I ended up making Gyarados and Politoad sick for a week, and the other pokemon nauseous for an hour. I also once caught the stove top on fire trying to boil water- but my sisters' won't believe me when I say it was ONLY the burner I was using that burst aflame and not the whole kitchen! The kitchen got burned because Psyduck-Lance, you look pale."

He did. Not obvious-sheet-white pale, but there was a clear fading in the color of his fair-toned skin that made Misty want to laugh and be suddenly concerned all at once. Lance stuttered for proper words, adding to her suddenly developing list of Things-I-Never-Thought-Capable-Of-Lance.

He coughed, "Well...that's..."

"Lame? Stupid? Embarrassing?" she offered.

"Surprising. And here I thought Clair was the only girl I've ever known to have...eh... bad luck in the kitchen."

"Wait," Misty interjected before any more could be said, and she climbed down the beach to where he stood on the rocks closest to the shallow pool. "You're telling me Miss Spande-" probably not a good time to use her and Ash's nickname for the gym leader when her older cousin was standing right in front of Misty, "er, Clair..." she waited for his response, but he merely chuckled.

"She's not skilled in the culinary arts either." he said, "Incidentally, though, one of her kitchen disasters ended up being the inspiration for the move Dragon Breath."

Misty giggled, "Really?"

"Really." he smiled, then retrieved his spear from the waters before the tide decided it could steal it away. He gripped in his hand, contemplating with a frown, "It seems the more and more I'm around you and on this island, the more my flaws become apparant." Something strange flickered in his eyes, and Misty didn't like it. She wasn't sure what to name it, but it was obvious it wasn't too pleasant for either of them...it was something...raw...exposed...

What could she say to that? What on earth could she reply with to that?

He turned sharply to her, the strange light gone, "Being a water-type specialist, you wouldn't happen to know how to catch these infernal things, would you?" Lance asked, sparing a pointed glare at the offensive animals.

Misty beamed, glad to have the negativity around him dispelled. She hadn't gone spear-fishing in many months, but it was as much a natural talent of hers as fishing and water pokemon were. Perhaps she were being a little egotistical, but Misty couldn't help but proudly claim, "Give me thirty minutes and see for yourself."

Thirty exact minutes later, she had four medium sized fish in a neat pile beside his feet while, with the spear gripped in her hand loose but firm, she waited her next unfortunate victim to dare to wade close in the pools with her knee-deep self.

SPLASH! Darted the spear from her hands.

With a quick, practiced haste she had whipped the spear out of the sand and rocks underwater and lo and behold, squirming atop the tip was a small and slim little red fish punctured in the belly by the rock-tip.

"Ta-dah!" Misty said with a laugh, striking a dramatic pose with the her speared little victim before depositing the poor fish into the sand next to the other four kills.

Lance clapped his hands in humor of her dramatic pose, "Well now, I guess we both know who's the hunter here."

"Oh no! Not hunter! I'm sticking to fishing, mister! Not one little cute forest animal's going down by my hand, nuh-uh!" Misty snapped.

Lance chuckled, "Fair enough... but, may I make a suggestion?"

"Go ahead."

"...teach me?"

Misty beamed, "Of course!"

* * *

Don't know about you, but I'd be pretty tempted to pay to see Lance pout. And him without those pesky shirts. But that's what I get for being a shameless Lance fan. *shameless dreamy sigh* And I might be the only person to think this, but Lance is bound to have some meat on his bones if he's a Dragon Master-always training, taming, and working with such powerful (and very likely moody) pokemon very likely requires some physical fitness on the trainer's part. And scars are usually just icing on the cake.

Or that could just be the Lance-fangirlyness talking. No idea. Maybe both?

Also Misty's angsty. Don't worry, it's curable. We've just got a ways to go before the cures arrive. Some...sooner than others... 8^

Not a survival expert, so if something isn't right, do correct me. I am several times during writing looking up survival guides, tips, and stuff in regards to stranded on an island (and, admittedly, watched Cast Away) for resources, but alas, the internet has been known to lie. So correct me when I'm wrong, if you know better.

If you like this, review. Fave's are nice... but reviews are better.

If no like, review and tell me so.

If not, I'll just continue anyway. Whenever I get around to it. C:

-KO13


	7. Chapter 7

To the following:

japaneserockergirl: yes, indeed you have, and that's okay! And ME TOO! Except its summer vacation after high school, and not college. But hey, school's still school, I suppose. What's funny is I've never been much of a pokeshipper (gym and egoshipper, strangely enough and it doesn't help that I'm horribly biased for Lance ANYDAY), but her crush on Ash is too vital a trait in her character to ignore and toss aside. A Misty isn't Misty without her crush on Ash (for now, ;D )- it's like Koga without his scarf, or Clair and her fail-fashion sense, or Ash and his Pikachu! lol

pokemongirl29: Lol, that's how many of us feel for some fics. Alas, like Lance, Fishin's just not my forte either XD And thank you, I shall be sure to keep that in mind.

Topaz Dragon: Wonderland? I'onno. And a lot of this, is making ripples in the pond. The real storm (figuratively, and literally)'s been brewing up and is about to make first wave. Maybe not in this chapter, but soon... soooooon *evil laugh* And thank you, I'm very glad you are liking it so much so far, and your feedback is greatly appreciated. C:

I'm going to go ahead and apologize for OOCness. It happens to the best of us.

Also, be prepared for abrupt POV shifts.

* * *

A couple of hours had passed by, faster than the blink of an eye and yet not a second regretted, despite the sun burning their skin and hunger eating at their bellies as the day changed from morning to afternoon. Misty had, as best as she could, given Lance a crash course in spear-fishing with little to no problems, save for that after a noteworthy difference in the amount of success and failure, it had become apparent whose skill lied where. Whereas Misty loved fishing, fished on a few of her off days, and had gone on a few fishing trips with Tracey and Professor Oak, and won a few awards in fishing contests hosted in Cerulean and other Kanto locations, Lance had admitted to have never gone fishing. Ever.

"It's just something that never came up." he had explained, though the sudden distance in his eyes hinted at something a little deeper in meaning than just 'never came up'.

So, honestly, it wasn't too surprising that the crash-course in spear-fishing hadn't gone as successful as it could have... but, hey, he had gotten two of the many elusive sea-creatures, so all wasn't so bad!

At least his masculinity wasn't threatened anymore! While not as talented or practiced as her, Lance could still say he was providing. Misty had to admit, lack of talent or not, he had a hell of an arm, too. Among a few _other_ things...

_Stop that_.

Alas, growling, starving stomachs could only be ignored for so long before the pile of fish caught became too tempting to resist, so the two red-heads had wrapped up their fishing session and proceeded back to their little shelter. Thanks to lack of attention, Lance's fire had lost much of its size since last seen so while he built it back up, Misty cleaned up the fish. It was icky, and several times, to his amusement, she bleched and squirmed under the slimy, slick, or grossness of the cutting. But, she could proudly say she only cut her hand once-she just wasn't sure from what, the sharp rock in her hand or the sharp side of the fin!

Once finished fixing up the fire to a healthy flare, Lance took the fish she was finished with and crudely shishkabobed each fish with the greenest of the firewood sticks. Soon the smell of burning meat had the two drooling (and to her embarrassment, a drible had escaped her mouth and unluckily caught the Champion's much-amused attention.)

The exposed fish flesh underneath the scales had slightly charred from the flames, but as Misty had said, it'd be much better to force and keep down burnt filet than if it was undercooked. The charred taste had indeed pierced the meat effectively, but it wasn't so bad from what they could have ended up devouring-especially when Lance had suddenly gotten the genius idea to slap a few pieces of coconut meat or let the coconut juice drible onto the fish for some sort of buffer against the charred flesh taste.

It wasn't a four-course meal from a five star restaurant, but it sure as hell beat starving, and the fish added more vital nutrients to whatever coconut had to offer. Once the two of them together had devoured a total of four fish and a whole coconut, their bellies were happily silent, full, and a sweet feeling of rejuvenation filling their body.

They had also downed the water in two of their three bottles, and put aside the leftover three fish, two coconuts, and four water-carrying coconut shells for later. If they needed more fishies to devour for later, they knew just where to get it, anyway.

"I think we should check out the shallows-and perhaps the forest a little more, now that we've got some nourishment in us for proper exercise." Lance spoke from behind Misty.

"Why's that?"

"That storm I mentioned yesterday-it should be hitting us tomorrow some time. We can use rocks from the shallows to keep down all our supplies, but we'll need proper shelter if we're going to wait it out safely."

OH. That's right. The storm he had said would hit soon after...whatever it was he did with that icky Caterpie. She was still curious about that. Had he really spoken to it? Did he have it talk to him? Or was Lance a mind reader? Or a poke-whisperer? Ugh, it just ate her insides up with all her questions! What deep, dark, unexposed secrets did the Champion keep from the world?

None that were her business, she tried to quell them with. Don't forget Misty, you have your own secrets you've kept all these years. Besides...you've only known each other for a day and a half! As if Lance of all people would indulge personal information to a _total_ stranger (well, she corrected, not total total stranger, just a lot less than acquaintances), seriously girl.

Seriously.

"Eehhh, we going to have to wait it out in rocks?" she bleched, already feeling an aching pain in her bum as a premonition.

"Would you rather get tossed about in wind and rain?" he asked.

"No thanks. I'll take my chances with rocks." she moaned, still not happy that at some point her bum would have a painful imprint of a rock. Lance chuckled, grabbing what was quickly becoming the favored tool the spear, and lead the way back to the shallows.

They easily climbed over the first small rocky hurdle before the shallow pools, where their fishing excursion that morning had occurred. The fishies, remembering the duo's not-so-long-ago hunting of their brethren, darted away to safety underneath coral and rock as Misty and Lance waded through the water, careful with their steps. The shallow pool was wide, with random boulders sticking out of the surface and shelves of rock and sand lifting up and down that they had to climb over. There were several spots deep enough that the water came up to Misty's waist while in other spots it didn't even pass their knees.

To their left as they waded and climbed was the deep blue ocean, waves coming in to crash against barrier reefs and rocks before the water flooded into the shallows. To their right, a series of cliff walls and drop-offs that started from being no taller than their ankle to escalating to as tall as a Wailord is long (which, by the way, is an average of forty-seven feet.)

Lance turned around, inquisitive and perhaps a hint concerned, and looked at Misty, "You okay? I keep hearing you hiss and whatnot."

Misty seethed, holding her hand, the one she had cut while skinning their fishy breakfast (or could it be considered lunch?). "It-it's nothing!" she forced with a smile, putting her hand behind her back, "Just fine!"

"You sure?" he asked, sounding very much doubtful.

She vigorously nodded. When he turned back forward to keep leading, Misty let go of her hurt hand and looked at the wound.

It was just one cut, from the when she had been skinning their fish. She supposed she had held it wrong and just gotten the sharp side of the fish's fin, how it had gotten there was still a bit of a mystery. It was a thin pale line going across her palm; it wasn't very big, and it didn't look deep at all, but it amazed Misty that she hadn't really noticed any pain until now.

Granted, salt plus open wounds is an obvious OWIE-NO-NO, but...

It was also leaking a thin, watery trail of red that dripped from her skin into the salt water and dissipated into the ocean, which Misty paid no mind to as she turned her palm this way and that to inspect. It wasn't that bad of a cut, but she was going to have to be mindful about it henceforth.

"This might be a good place..." Lance muttered, standing in front of a sharp corner the rock wall made. There was a thin patch of beach sand smoothing out the sharp turn the cliffs took as well as the sharp dive downward, and a bunch of rocks under the water's surface that Misty could feel the point and sharpness of through her tennis shoes. What he was looking at, though, was a series of rock slabs laid against each other forming a very rough stairway into the hole that had hollowed itself out in the cliff-side that had begun a sharp descension in size towards the ocean water.

The hole appeared like it could have been the beginnings of an eroded underlying archway for a bridge-like formation of the rocks, were it not for the thick, tough slabs lying about and inside the hole on either side of the openings. Closer up, the entrance opening looked a little under Lance's height, and would require a bit of climbing to get up and inside, where- probably fallen-rock formed a smooth flooring and tiny cracks allowed a few peepholes to the other side of the cliffs. After inspection and climbing in, the hole proved to be large enough to fit them both; Misty comfortably and Lance if he didn't sit up straight while sitting.

After a few tries at climbing inside and climbing out, Misty and Lance shared a look and nodded.

"It just might do. The climb inside should be high enough to avoid the tide, and the wind won't be a bother since its not exposed to the open`well." Lance had said after he finished inspecting.

"And it won't be easy for nasty animals or hostile pokemon to get inside either!" Misty beamed.

"Like Caterpies?" he teased.

Misty flailed, "Don't jinx us! Eugh, bug types!"

He chuckled, and they begun the trek back to camp. Misty began chatting away about random things on her mind, while Lance distantly listened, focused on planning for the storm that awaited them tomorrow. Probably rude to do that, he vaguely told himself, but he couldn't help it. Their survival against a storm was a little more important that idle chatting, right?

It'd probably be a good idea for them to fish for food either later that afternoon or early in the morning and have some food cooked and prepared to take with them, or at the very least to eat before hiding away in their new little cave. He wasn't sure yet how long a storm might last on this tropical island of theirs, but he was willing to bet it would beat the three-hour showers Blackthorn sometimes experienced.

"You're awful quiet. I'm sorry, am I boring you?" Misty asked, poking his shoulder. They had crossed the last shelf and their camp in clear view. Just a few more feet of wading in a little over knee deep water, climb atop the rock shelf, and they'd be back on the beach of their camp in no time!

Literally, because it wouldn't take more than a few seconds.

The prodding of her finger against his bare shoulder was what really snapped him out of his thoughts, and he felt a little embarrassed that she very well might have caught him in his lack of interest in her stories. It kinda even made him feel a bit guilty.

"Oh, no, not at all! I'm just distracted... I'm kinda wondering what all we should do to prepare ourselves before the big storm..."

Misty nodded, though he wasn't turned around to see, "I know what you mean. I hope it isn't too bad of a storm, you know? I'd hate to have to stay cooped up in that hole we found for more than a nig-OW!" she suddenly jumped.

"What? What is it?" he snapped, an instantaneous wave of concern and alarm crashing into his system. He forced his body through the water to get close to analyze his companion.

Misty's hands had dived down to her leg, where a thin, barely visible cloud of red was rising from. He couldn't see it very well, what with the thin haze of blood and her clenched fingers, but it looked like there were multiple scratches on her skin.

"I don't know! Something red and blue just suddenly darted at my leg and suddenly its on fire!" she said through gritted teeth. She was seething harshly, he guessed from the salinity in the water.

"Red and blue?" he repeated, brain racking for a match-up. He didn't know of any fish or sea-creature that would be red AND blue (though that could also attribute to his lack of sea-faring knowledge- he's a DRAGON master, not a college graduate in marine biology!)

He didn't have time to guess when something large, scaled, and red and blue with big yellow fins jumped out of the water, jaws wide open to clamp down on Misty. Lance smacked the offensive creature with his spear, knocking it dizzy a few feet back before it recovered and twisted in the water. Copies of it swam in blurs underneath, the yellow top spikes of their fins sticking out of the surface his best indication of their location.

"Carvanha!" Misty gasped, and the word did not rest well with Lance. Wild Pokemon species weren't always considered human friendly, but only a few species were really hostile, fearful, angry, or desperately hungry enough to attack people. It wasn't often they would eat a human either; again, desperation was usually the only drive.

Carvanha and their evolved forms Sharpedo? No qualms about it. If it moved, it could be eaten, was what one of his Gyarados once told him was the Water and Dark type species' philosophy. This applied to ships, other pokemon, _and_ humans.

Lance pushed her behind him, spear in front of them both, though he wondered what good it would do with water for the school to swim in all around them as he thrust the end of the weapon into the water at the fish pokemon that got close. He then had to swing it out of the water to smack away the Carvanha that leaped out to attack.

Then right as he brought his spear up a Carvanha also jumped and its jaws snapped onto the middle of the spear. Effortlessly its teeth split the wood in half, the sight removing much of the color in Lance's face.

Fantastic.

A quick back hand (not smart; the rough skin tore at the back of his hand and wrist) He passed one of the broken pieces to Misty to use. Most of the Carvanha were being smacked or jabbed away from actually getting their metal-crushing jaws on Misty, but he had the feeling she was having to use her own body to force them away further, or that they were at some point colliding into her bare flesh and with the Rough Skin of Carvanha... oh yeah, that was going to _hurt_.

Given the two broken halves of the spear as their only weapon, Lance mused they were probably doing better than they could be. But for how long? The carnivorous fish pokemon were endless in their energy and blood-thirsty frenzy while Lance and Misty had...maybe half their lunch's worth of energy left?

Misty cried out as the abrasive skin of a jumping Carvanha scraped at her arm. It had tried to jump, but the brunt of the attack missed. Out of instinct she threw her arm out and smacked it away mid-air with her broken half of the spear. Offhandedly Lance was impressed she managed to hit it in their current state.

Just how many of these freaking fish pokemon were there?

Wait a minute.

DUH, Lance! He mentally smacked himself. There is, in fact, an easy way out.

He jabbed at a Carvanha and then pushed Misty towards the rocky shelf that was the last meager barrier between the shallows and the beach sand.

"Climb up the shelf and get out of the water!" he snapped. She jumped at the sound of his voice cutting in with all the noisy jabbering of the frenzied Carvanha, but nodded. She jumped and grabbed the sharp edge of the shelf and tried to pull herself up. Her arms shook, blood trickling down her arms and legs from the Carvanha. With the retreating source of the blood they desperately needed to feast with, a few of the fish-pokemon darted for her. Lance smacked them away, a few managing to catch his arms with their abrasive flesh and a few with the sharp points of their teeth.

No time!

Lance shoved her upward with his unharmed hand, deciding now was definitely not the time to fret over the fact that the spot his hand was forcing her body upward to the top of the shelf and help climb over was, in fact, her butt.

Oh for the love of Arceus, Lance, now is _not_ the time to blush. No, no, quit it! Focus, damn you! He screamed at himself.

Successfully over the edge, Misty clambered to her knees, turned around to face him, and held her hand out. "Come on!"

Lance grabbed the edge, and her hand. Together he was able to climb over the edge, but not without a good look at the pain in her eyes the moment their hands clasped. With the two of them out of the water, they both just sort of slumped into the sand.

Misty then kicked out with her leg lazily at the one Carvanha that managed to jump high enough out of the water to reach them. It went sailing away harmlessly, though Misty cried at the movement.

Lance got to his feet first. His body was mildly numb from adrenaline, and perhaps the abruptness of the Carvanha attack, but he cared little at the moment. He helped Misty to her feet, and together the two of them half-walked half-limped back to their camp fire.

All the while, he wondered how Misty had gotten the cut on her palm and why she never told him about it.

* * *

I kinda feel like I failed horribly with this chapter, it's just so...I don't know. I could be crazy.

According to pokedex entries, Carvanha have so much power in their jaws and teeth that they can eat straight through a boat. And since they evolve into a shark-pokemon, I kinda, maybe, sort of integrated the whole "smell blood miles away" thing that sharks got.

Now that I think about it, I've really got to stop updating this at 11 at night. Hrm...

Not a survival expert, so if something isn't right, do correct me.

If you like this, review. Fave's are nice... but reviews are better.

If no like, review and tell me so.

If not, I'll just continue anyway. Whenever I get around to it. C:

-KO13


	8. Chapter 8

It still amazes me that despite the thousands of pages in the Pokefanfic archive with all the hundreds of random, crazy, and/or odd pairings out there, some of which astound me, others confuse, and some just creep me out, that I am apparently the first person EVER to actually write a Misty and Lance fic.

I may just get killed for saying this, but Poke-fanfic writing community- seriously.

Seriously.

Your lack of LanceMisty disappoints me.

Anyway-

To the following:

Unleashed1: No real anime-manga-game introduced island was in mind, but it's more or less some uncharted island sort of stuck in the ocean between Hoenn and Johto, but closer to Johto. Probably a few thousand miles from the Orange Archipelago, less than seven hundred from the Whirl Islands... hence the diversity. Also, many shark species tend to migrate through oceans in the real world, so I don't see why Carvanha/Sharpedo wouldn't.

TopazDragon: Oh yes, infection is indeed a nasty thing. But alas, as cruel as it was of me to throw fishy payback with the Carvanha, I can't have them dying off by getting infections right when the story's just begun! No, no, I've got something in mind for them to fight it off with, for a while anyway. However brutal and painful it will be. But yes, injuries still gonna be a hindrance. Oh ho ho, the drama-making of me!

I'm going to go ahead and apologize for OOCness. It happens to the best of us.

Also, be prepared for yelling

* * *

The tension was nerve-wracking, as was the relative silence. The only noise was Misty's pain-filled cries as they finally reached their campfire and she plopped down in the sand. Lance poured salt-less water over the worst of her wounds from the last remaining water bottle, stringing out a few more painful whimpers.

He had never actually seen the damage to a human that a Carvanha's rough skin could do, and frankly, he was grimly impressed as he cleaned them with cold, fresh water. Luckily the spots where they had rubbed against Misty's legs and that one spot on her arm weren't deep, but it looked awful and very painful nonetheless. The flesh appeared as torn up as meat after a couple strokes against the surface of a cheese grater, and just as red and bloody from where the most direct impact had occurred. In the lucky spots where the rough skin had barely grazed her, it almost looked like she had taken sandpaper and vigorously scratched at it like a mad-woman.

The amount of blood that came pouring out when he introduced the salt-less water was just astounding too. It had already bled a hazy cloud of red in the shallows, but the amount of blood, both clotted black bits and a few streams of bright red, that trailed away with the water was just... ridiculous!

"I'm sorry." she sniffled.

"For?" he asked, but she stayed quiet. Again. She had done that twice now (apologize, but never explain what for), and it was grating Lance's already-hot nerves. He didn't know why, he wasn't totally sure how, but something inside him was bitter, angry, and seething like a hissy persian. While the pain stinging his wounds might have a hand in that, he was pretty sure the majority of the cause was right before him.

Maybe he was overreacting, but it didn't stop the inner storm of his mind; why didn't she tell him she had been hurt before getting in the water? Or that it was bleeding?

Was that the only wound she had been hiding, or had there been more? Why did she hide it? Why?

He had finished doing his best to clean off her wounds and leaned back to assess her lean, toned legs. Small droplets of blood were already reforming to dribble down her flesh, but the rate was slowing down greatly.

"I'm s-"

Screw it, he'd had enough of this!

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Misty jumped back, caught unguarded by his forwardness.

"Tell you?"

"You cut yourself." he growled, glaring at her hand, "And didn't tell me. Carvanha are crazy when they're hungry, but they _certainly_ weren't bothering us when we were fishing, or the trip to the cave. And you know what they say, they can smell one drop of blood miles away in the water." he growled.

She blinked wide-eyed at him, taken aback by the harsh anger in his voice, and noticeably put out by the funny scolding tone he had equipped as well, "How did you-?"

"Hard not to notice you twinge when we were face-to-face climbing up the shelf. Now why?"

"Why?"

"Why didn't you tell me you were hurt, Misty?"

"It was just an accidental cut, Lance! It wasn't that big of a deal!" she shot back. He flinched only a bit at the sudden attack in her voice.

"That big of a deal? We almost got killed, Misty! We're lucky we were so close to the shore shelf, or else we'd be Carvanha-food!" he shouted, throwing an arm out to gesture at the shallows where they had just escaped from.

Misty tried to stand up, fighting stance ready to be taken, but stumbled back with a teeth-gritted cry into the sand, enticing a heated wave of protective concern in his being before he suppressed it back; there was an argument to be had here, and until it resolved it was not going to be denied or ignored!

Suck on _that_, hormones!

"You're acting like I did it intentionally!" she gathered up, once she was done seething air through her teeth, "For Mew's sake, Lance, it's not like I cut myself on purpose with the intention of risking our lives escaping a bunch of Carvanha for a thrill! How was I supposed to know there was going to be Carvanha in the area anyway? At the time I thought it wasn't something to worry about!"

"Yeah, well now look at what that got you!" he gestured wildly, angrily at her bleeding leg, "A chewed-to-hell leg, scraped arm, and an injured hand! If you'd have told me, I wouldn't have let you come along or we'd be a lot more careful and we wouldn't have had to go through that; but thanks to your irresponsibility, we almost _died_!"

"What do you want me to do?" she snarled, "Call for help every time I scrape a knee or bump my toe on a rock?"

"That's not what I'm meaning, Misty!"

"Then what? We're alive, aren't we?" she retorted. "I already told you, I didn't think something so small would really matter, to you or what we were doing! What do you want from me, Lance?"

"Think, Misty! If either one of us dies, the other will too! Out here, there's nothing-_nothing_ keeping us separated from death! We need each other right now, why don't you trust me?"

"How can I when _you_ don't trust _me_?" she shouted with an unbelievable amount of desperation and bitterness that it, and what she said, made him jump back.

It stung. Oh Mew did her words sting! Such a ridiculous statement, repeated over and over in his mind so many times in each second it was loud and annoying and yet it rang so true that it hurt, burning its way deep inside. Because, truthfully, despite that she was likeable, and admittedly kind of adorable, Lance, being Lance didn't trust her. And knowing that, and now knowing she too knew it, hurt.

In a second too late she realized what she had said and had slapped a hand over her mouth as if it could take back what she said. It didn't. Misty hastily looked away, and whispered, "I'm-"

"No..." he intercepted, just as willing to keep eye contact to a minimum- glancing was doing the torrential storm inside of him good enough for the moment. "No...you're right. I haven't-haven't really trusted you since we met, and it was...really foolish of me to think I could get away with it here, despite our situation. And...I'm sorry."

Misty was painfully quiet for a long, raw moment. "I'm sorry too for...well, not trusting you back and for the whole irresponsible-cut-on-my hand and...this...this whole surviving thing isn't going to work with us being like this, is it?"

Quietly he shook his head, his hand reaching to scratch the back of his neck. "No...it isn't..."

The two of them were silent for a moment that almost seemed to stretch on for an eternity, Lance tied up in his thoughts, in the guilt in that she had been right. The whole time he hadn't trusted her, foolishly believing that he could safely keep them alive and not have to delve in the dangerous world of trust and emotions and bonds he had kept out of with so many people... what an idiot he was. Their situation was dangerous enough as is, with death waiting to tap their shoulder and take them away; this lack of trust between them was going to end up making it worse.

"I..." Misty's voice cut into the quiet, enticing Lance to bring his gaze up from the white sand to the tear-prickled, sad aquamarine eyes she had, still astray in their own gaze. "I'm not saying we have to be, you know, the bestest best friends in the whole universe with rainbows and butterfree's all around and gushing out in an epic heart-to-heart but..."

"But...?"

Her gaze met his, open and and searching, and her lips were ever so parted. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and Lance had to put straight, for the billionth time, the savage voice inside him that wanted to ravage her lips and the rest of her body in a much more pleasant way than the Carvanha had.

She sighed, her lips close together that made a funny puttering sound, "This is going to sound really silly...uhm, can we start over?"

"Excuse me?" he questioned, confused. Start over? Start what over? What was there to start anew?

"Yeah, this time leave out the whole me-being-the-little-gym-leader and your-being-almighty-champion-ness?"

...OH.

"And maybe...maybe this time be friends?"

He was sort of stunned by her proposal for a moment, stunned by the simplicity, and almost silly childishness of it and yet it was...it was much to tempting to leave alone.

Especially if it meant they could get over this.

Lance's lips softly curved up into a tired, submissive smile, "I'd like that."

Misty cleared her throat, then thrust the hand that wasn't cut up forward at him, and beamed up at him. Tire was laced in her voice, as was the pain of her wounds, but it was much more overcome by the cheeriness and hope in her tone, "Hi, my name is Misty! I'm a pokemon trainer and I specialize in water types. And I would love to be your friend."

It was still a very strange conversation they had found themselves in, and as his own rough hand slowly but doubtlessly grasped at her much smaller, almost fragile and softer skinned hand, he almost felt silly, childish even, as he opened his mouth.

"I am Lance. I too am a pokemon trainer, and I specialize in dragons... and I would love to have you for a friend, Misty."

"I can tell-have you ever tried lotioning? Jeez, your palms feel like callous-ville!" she joked lightly, not meaning anything more than a light-hearted joke.

He couldn't help but laugh at the silliness, the strangeness of what their conversation had changed to, and... and how strangely freeing he felt.

I am Lance. A pokemon trainer. He repeated in his head.

Not the esteemed member of the Elite Four. Not the worshiped and undefeated Champion. Not the G-Men Agent. Not the Dragon Master.

Just Lance.

Just Lance and Misty. Not the Gym Leader. Not the Tomboy Mermaid of Cerulean.

Just Misty.

Just Lance and Misty.

Somehow, those words sent his heart free.

"So...uhm... my leg is _really_ starting to hurt." she sheepishly admitted.

Lance snapped out of his euphoric daydreams and back into his Serious mode. Her leg looked a bit... less gory now that the water had washed away the blood and the bits of flesh that were so shredded by the Carvanha hide that they just hung there could be easily removed if he just took the sharp edge of a rock (after cleaning off dirt and sand with water, of course. He wasn't a professional in medicine, but he wasn't ignorant of bacteria and dirt's affects).

But it was still an open wound. A big one. Her leg, and the nasty one on her arm was too. And he didn't have anything to really sanitize it with. No needle and thread to stitch it, no anesthetic of some sort...

...his eyes narrowed as they gazed into the orange flames of the fire. It was getting low again, as was their wood supply, but that was easy to fix later...

...could he...?

No, it would be far too painful! He couldn't ask that of Misty!

...but they had nothing else, no medical kit, no thread and needle, no sanitizer and anesthetics or antibiotics, the damn things needed to be closed or else infection would be knocking on their metaphorical door sooner than later...

...and he did have the smooth, metal button pins that pinned the tassels of his cape to the cloth, and it could easily be pinned to a stick...

He bit his lip, his thoughts transferring into his face as different expressions that Misty easily caught.

"Lance? What are you thinking?"

He bit his lip harder. "Misty...you know if there were any other options available, I would pick them above anything else, right?"

Misty became troubled, very disturbed by the vague tone in his voice, the avoidance in his words, "Lance, what are you talking about? What are you thinking? What is it?"

"I don't want to ask this of you; in fact, I would never wish to have to resort to this, and the thing is you'll have to do it to me too," he gestured to the painful gore on his arms, and the very odd spot on his abdomen were the scales had somehow come into contact with and tore straight through the cloth of his sleeveless shirt and scraped hard against the skin. He was unsure when that had happened, but it hurt nonetheless.

"Lance, quit avoiding and answer me!"

In shameful cowardice, he couldn't bring himself to say it aloud. So instead he gestured to the fire.

Misty appeared thoroughly confused by his silence and gesture, staring back and forth between him and the hot fire. Until she began to wonder how it connected to wounds and it clicked, with an absolute horror on her face.

Cauterizing.

"No... no, no, no," she began, about to start a completely understandable rant speaking against it, and he knew it. And he couldn't let her.  
Because if he did, he wouldn't be able to bring himself to doing it, no matter how much he might be saving her by hurting her.

Lance placed his hands on her shoulders, making sure her eyes were on him and attention focused.

"It will hurt, I cannot even bring myself to lie." he admitted, "But if we don't find a sure way to close yours and my wounds up, we're setting ourselves up for an early date with infection, and we have nothing to combat that. _Nothing_. Closed injuries are a lot easier to deal with, and heal, Misty, believe me. I've got the scars to prove it." Experience had taught him that, many times over, and each in a different definition of phrase 'the hard way'. Once he was training with Salamence, back when it was a young and reckless spitfire Bagon and he was too slow at dodging a Dragon Claw and got a nasty gash right in the hip. Another time, during one of his hunting missions against Team Rocket, one grunt had pulled out a hunting knife on him and got a deep cut going all the way up his bicep and a thinner one across his chest.

"It- but..."

"I don't want to do this to you Misty, but I mean it; this is all we've got. I don't have a needle or thread, so we can't stitch it, and we've already gone through the luggage cases and there's no medical kit. We don't have bandages, no sterilizer or alcohol; hell, the only thing we even have for an anesthetic is a stick to bite on."

She was quiet.

"...if it helps, you'll have to do the same for me." he offered.

"That doesn't." she sniffed. "But what choice do I have?"

-o00o-

Even muffled by a cloth-wrapped stick, Misty's screams easily pierced the air. Tear streaks lightly darkened and wet her cheeks, and she had long ago given up holding back the moisture in her eyes. Her knuckles were white, fingers crushing the pointless broken half of the spear he had retrieved for her to hold onto.

It was taking every ounce of his will and every fiber in Lance's being _not_ to throw his makeshift brand down, take her into his arms and drown her ears in apologies and sorries and promises of it'll never happen again he'll never ever do such a horrible thing and oh my god what a monster he was and so on. The list was endless, and her sobs of agony seemed like it too.

He had taken the one of the circular metal button that pinned the silver tassels to his cape, and pinned it to a stick. With the fire rekindled he had then held it over the open flame and let it get hot- not glowing white hot, oh no, not that, just burning-to-the-touch, almost red hot. He had never actually cauterized something before, not like this, but Lance had figured it would be best to do quick, one-second or two-second long taps of contact between skin and the metal surface. It wouldn't stop the intensity in pain, but it would lesson the amount, at least.

Her leg was done, and he was finishing up her arm. The bits of hanging flesh had been removed long ago with a water-washed rock tip, and the burned flesh was now a massive pink scar with red blotches from blood and tiny black bits here and there that could be picked at and removed easily. What formerly looked like meat after a meeting with a cheese grater was now looking like a mottled scab. It wasn't the best medical attention he could give her, but it was surely better than leaving it alone.

Finally, he had finished, and though a few pounds of guilt and self-loathing and pity were lifted now that he could relinquish the metal pin-on-a-stick, there were tons still on his shoulders as Misty continued sobbing at the lingering ghosts of pain going through her body. He wanted so badly to comfort her, but he wasn't done yet.

Taking a few of the pieces of clothes from their accumulated pile and tearing them to shreds easily with his own natural strength and a sharp-pointed rock, he had proceeded to wrap up the now cauterized injuries. He didn't have any salve or ointment, but he washed a small dose of clean water from the water bottle over her leg and arm before patting it dry and wrapping it up firmly. It was a bit tight, but he needed it to stay on there for her; he wanted to stop any blood from escaping if her leg moved, not cut off circulation! The injured spots that weren't as gaping open like her leg and arm were also wrapped up in strips of cloth.

He tied the last strip, leaned back to assess his work, and then nodded to himself. It wasn't the work of a medical professional, but it would do. The cloth-wrapped biting stick in her mouth dropped to the sand and a few rogue tears managed to trail their way down her cheek.

His own, not as horrid as Misty's but still bad, stung and burned with a painful passion but he couldn't help himself but to place them aside in his mind as Lance gently enveloped Misty in his arms. She accepted the embrace as easily as she could, her uninjured arm lifting to return the hold and gripping the shirt's fabric on his back. Her sobs had quieted into sniffles, and within a few minutes she was shuffling and using her one arm to push him back.

"Thank you." she sniffled. Her hand wiped at the tear stains and nose, she sniffed harsh, then blinked at his wounds that were, as of the moment, still untreated. Misty did not appear to approve. "You're-"

"I know."

She swallowed, "Am I going to have to...?"

Lance shrugged, "It'll be hella easier than me doing it myself. But do you...?" he was answered by her picking up the stick with the metal button pinned to the tip, but he noticed the hesitance, the slight quivering of her hand. He frowned deeply, "Misty you don't have to. I can do it myself."

"No." she said firmly, with a sharp exhale of air. " 'We need each other right now', that's what you said, right?" she said, catching contact with his eyes, and holding them captive. An invisible, small war was raging in their gazes; Misty's pain-filled ones, her resolve to help him, the fear of hurting him. He knew it would tear her up, having to scorch his body just to ensure their survival, to save him; helping by hurting. It was going to tear at her seams, and Lance knew it because it had done the same for him, and he didn't want that for her.

But in Misty's own words, what other choice was there?

* * *

I suck at arguments and fighting.

Cautery (cauterization or burning to remove or close up parts of the body) has been used on various different media (from J. Wayne movies to Roy Mustang on FMABrotherhood to real surgical procedures of it during wars back in the old days). I've done my research and, in actuality, cautery is considered a very dangerous, very painful procedure, that is generally left as a last resort to prevent bleeding to death and to close amputations. According to various websites I looked up about it, including wikipedia, cautery actually sometimes makes injuries worse as it slightly increases the risk of infection through outer tissue damage and making a more "hospitable" breeding ground for bacteria. It's regarded as a medical no-no and only to be used as a last resort for injuries when there's no other option of medical attention or any other med-supplies available. After the procedure, it's generally advised to immediately seek medical attention or help anyway, to really be safe.

However, I don't know if people who tested this also wrapped up their cauterized stuff with gauze or cloth immediately following the procedure or just left their injuries in the open air, either.

Either way, don't worry, I HAVE A PLAN.

Not a survival expert, so if something isn't right, do correct me.

Also, I really really _really really REALLY_ need to get out of the habit of posting updates late at night...like at 1 in the morning. *SIGH*

Also also, been in Florida with no internet for a week, came back, so could someone perhaps PM (read carefully: _**P****M**_) me and tell me about this image managing thingy that's popped up suddenly? IT CONFUZZLES MEH.

If you like this, review. Fave's are nice... but reviews are better. B-E-T-T-E-R.

If no like, review and tell me so.

If not, I'll just continue anyway. Whenever I get around to it. C:

-KO13


	9. Chapter 9

To the following:

TopazDragon: Plus, as I've mentioned, I has plan. :3 And yes, quite a turning point, but I have plenty more in store for them. Some good, some great, some evil... Lance hasn't learned the hormone part yet, either XD The tricky part that I must also be sure to follow is darling Misty's side.

Violet Shadow Kurayami: Thank you, I'm happy you like it so much, and welcome aboard.

Pokemongirl29: I can't help it, I like sweet, protective guys and Lance strikes me as the type. X3 The idea is more or less to literally rip out from underneath them both the power or security they had, throw them together, and watch them learn to depend on each other, among other choice things. Despite being the opposite gender, I find it easier to write for guys. 8/ But I like trying Misty, one because it's important to develop them both, and two, I just like Misty. Primarily, it is going to be from Lance's pov, but there will be plenty of Misty's pov to balance it out. As for the cautering- I'll admit, the inspiration was from an episode of an anime called Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood, where a character named Roy Mustang (my favorite, incidentally) closed up his and another guy's wounds up via fire then soldiered on to protect the main protagonist's brother and his dearest lieutenant (is a shameless shipper of RoyRiza too). Also, I have watched Boon Dock Saints, and I happen to love it dearly. C:

realperson909: Thank you, glad to see you like it so much. C:

japaneserockergirl: some of us writers were practically born to write painful stuff. I am not one of them, but cautery isn't hard to depict; the definition itself is pretty nasty. it's not pretty, I hear. Haven't actually found good photos for reference of the result of its use, but as I mentioned at the bottom of the chapter, it's an emergency only procedure that's frowned upon by most med professionals, but hey, when emergencies knock on the door and you're stuck without med help, not much to do without. Besides, I have a things up my sleeve. the OOC warning thing is more or less to alert/apologize to/let aware those out there that would see them as out of character or out of character considering the situations they're in. Also to sate the crazies out there. Other than that, pretty much space-occupying.

anime-guardianangel: Beforehand, I was a straight forward MistynBrock-MistynGary girl, with a little of MistyAsh triangles on the side. And yet here we are. lol.

zeldachic459: and I LOVE LOVE LOVE your review, girl, and very touched by your fanart! Glad to see you loving it so much!

Crystal-Rock: Thank you, I really appreciate your review, and thank you for the assurance. It helps. As for the rambling and review, don't worry about it! If you feel the need to ramble in a review, go on ahead! I like to hear my readers' thoughts. C: Also, as for the name of the pairing... I looked and looked and eventually found out it's called Rageshipping, and I'm assuming it's because they met at Lake of _Rage_, but honestly? I don't approve of the name, and it took me forever to even find it. If it were up to me, I'd call it something more appropriate or cool like WaterDragonship (because of the types they specialize in) or Kingdraship (the pokemon that, awesomely, has both types and Misty has the prevolution of anyway) I'd actually like to do more with Lance and Misty, like a few oneshots or short fics with them, to enhance publicity of the pairing, and also, just cus I love em. But I'm feeling I'll hold off on that thought so I won't get distracted.

I DON'T KNOW WHY I'M ALWAYS UP SO LATE OH WAIT YEAH I DO STUPID BOYFRIEND AND HIS MMO GAMES IMMA KILL HIM WITH THIS BAG OF CHIPS THAT I'M EATING OM-NOM-SCHNOM-SCHNARFM-NOM

Uhm, I have issues?

I'm going to go ahead and apologize for any OOCness. It happens to the best of us.

Short chapter is short.

* * *

For an eternity the only sound Lance had been able to even attempt to comprehend was that of his own voice. For Misty's sake, he had tried his best to hinder the screams that ripped out of his lungs, to help keep her from losing another battle in the war against self-loathing for the procedure, though from what he could tell on his part, it was a futile failure. He could say somewhat numbly he had bitten down a few particular nasty sounding ones down from escaping his throat successfully, which would probably explain now why his tongue stung terribly and mouth tasted like blood, but for the most part he was sure he had been educationally vocal of just what his body thought of the feeling of scorching-hot metal.

During the treatment, he was so stricken blind and helpless with pain burning his entire being that he couldn't begin to compare it to any other time of pain he had felt. Now that the cauterizing was done, he could in fact list at least two instances, and neither were pretty, and it only served to remind the places of his body relevant to the instances how bad it hurt, making ghostly flickers of pain mix with the lingering flare of pain in the now cauterized wound.

It was fire itself, upon contact burning sensitive nerves, skin, and blood that sent infernos of agony through his spine and blinded and deafened his mind to everything else but the pain. It didn't matter how fast Misty tried to finish her treatment, it still felt like forever.

Now that all was over, and coaxing his mind out of its numb state after several minutes of laying dumb in the sand, Misty was wrapping up the cleaned, scabbed wound with strips of cloth. Lance would be doing it himself, but the aquatic trainer would not be denied her chance at making him feel even a fraction better after the eternity of scorching pain. Before she had begun wrapping though, she had washed over clean water and with delicate, cautious care patted it dry, and what formerly was torn up flesh was a hot-surfaced collection of tough, hard, and thick black and red scabs closing off the wound from the outside, on the right side of his abdomen, just a little lower than his chest.

Another scar to add to his collection.

"You have a lot of scars." Misty quietly commented while wrapping the cloth around. For convenience purposes, Lance had discarded the ripped black shirt prior to the cauterization and fought off the forces of embarrassment and shame before he was fighting off the forces of agony. Now, he was paying dearly for it.

He hated his scars. Some were the price of a particular tough training or taming with his dragons, and some were the results for hunting down Rockets and various other evil-doers and a few were testament to his darker, reckless, ruthless youth. Each varied in size, depth, and story. Plus, they were vile things, ugly defects of pale white or pink in his skin that stood out in contrast to the lingering hue of tan in his flesh that had come about from all that time he had spent a (read correctly as: _two and a half_) year(_s_) ago in Hoenn with that whole Kyogre-Groudon-Team-Aqua-Magma fiasco.

"Not that that's a bad thing!" she hastily added upon the darkening of his eyes. "My dad used to say scars build character. Whenever me or my sisters would come in with a scraped knee or something he'd tell us that and only give us band-aids, no neosporin or anything. Mom would yell at him if it was really bad." she said, tying off the cloth.

His lips barely flickered upward, but he was appreciative of her quick little tale from her past. Frowning in thought, he then pointed to one scar, a long but thin white mark that crossed over the left plain of his chest and managed to touch his abdomen muscles. It was a few inches from the fresh cauterized scab, and had a few triangular spikes branching out, but nothing else was remarkable about it.

"Fifty two."

"Huh?"

"It took fifty two stitches for it to close, and a couple weeks before they could be removed." he explained, noticing the slight wince as she listened.

"How did it happen?"

"I was careless once." he began, "I was going through Viridian Forest, one of its vast branches anyway, and I got snared into a battle with a Poacher. He was hunting some poor pokemon to sell to get some quick cash, and I foiled his attempts a few times more than I should have. And then, on the last night I was in Viridian, he was about to catch, I think a Nidoqueen," Lance paused, straining for the images of the memory, "yeah, and once again I helped it free from his net. In return for meddling, his Scyther landed a preemptive Slash attack before Dragonair could interfere."

Misty cringed, probably imagining what it might have looked like during the event, how much it bled, and hurt, what it looked like being stitched up. "And then?"

"And then, Dragonair whooped him, we made our escape to a hospital, and got the scolding of my life from Agatha and Clair."

"You got scolded? Like a kid?"

He nodded, finding that small smile in her lips and the incredulous amusement in her voice sort of endearing.

"Can't say I didn't deserve it." he sad with a shrug, which made him flinch in pain slightly, "Clair was on my tail about going off without telling her or our Elder, and Agatha was hissing a fit over my lack of care in regards to my surroundings and how pathetic it was for an Elite Four-candidate to get injured in such a careless manner and blah blah this, not strong that..."

"You weren't in the Elite Four yet?"

"Nope." he quipped, "Just your normal, dragon-specializing trainer..." he paused, "...with an outstanding battling record, apparently. Hence why I was a candidate."

Misty giggled, and Lance found he liked the sound. He wondered what a real laugh would sound like, "Normal, indeed."

He shrugged, smiling. "Yes... it was a long time ago, though."

She folded her arms atop her knees and listened, though she was careful with her bandaged arm, "Could...would you tell me more?"

He sent her a funny look, surprised in the innocent interest in her expression. Her eyes, gentle and open, widely graced his figure, watching his body language and waiting while partially hidden by her arms was a patient, hopeful smile on her lips. Cute, he supposed, and considering all they had gone through so far, she deserved to know more about him, Lance supposed.

Offhandedly, he hoped she would be just as willing to let him get to know her, too.

"I suppose...but would...uhm..."

"What?"

"Would you do the same? Uhm...you know," he paused to shyly cup the back of his head with his palm, scratching at the hairs on the back of his neck, "tell me more of yourself, too?"

She smiled, "Of course! Can't have one of us remaining the mystery now, can we? Although, I don't think any of my stuff will be half as interesting as yours..."

Lance chuckled, "Try me."

-o00o-

"...and then, after mumbling something about hydrogen and oxygen and stuff, Tracey yelled for us to get down, and their cages exploded from our combined attacks! Not even a second later Moltres and Zapdos start tossing back and forth streams of fire and lightning!" she said, animated with wild hand gestures, and such lively expressions it was like watching her relive them.

She went on, about the destructive duel between three titans, the heart-breaking cry of Lugia as it fought back for the fate of the world, the reckless, but impressive feats of one boy to set everything right. And when it was his turn to tell something about his life, he felt like anything he could have said would be severely lacking.

Maybe that fiasco in Hoenn, with Kyogre and Groudon, he supposed.

But first, he would have to beat himself up mentally.

Because pride would not allow him to admit it was the combined lack of a Togepi nestled in her arms like a baby, and the accompanying League-dubbed Trouble-Magnet Ash Ketchum that caused his inability to recognize her.

Her, Misty, the fiery girl who many years ago blatantly ignored his orders and tried to save the raging Red Gyarados that was long since under his command and care.

Good Arceus, she had changed since then.

* * *

Because whether he wants to admit it or not, Lance has nothing on Misty when you compare the amount of Legendaries each has seen. XD Seriously, he's seen Kyogre and Groudon. Whoo. Misty's seen every Kanto (Mew, Mewtwo, Moltres, Zapdos, Articuno) and Johto (minus Raikou and I think Ho-oh) Legendary (Suicune, Entei, Unown, Lugiax3, Celebi) and the Eon Duo (Latios/Latias). Just TRY to compare, Lance-y boy.

Also, because I'm persistent and nerdy, I managed to find the second of the two Red Gyarados episodes (but strangely not the first? Ah well, no worries.).

Lance, could you be ANY taller? My GOD there was like a foot and a half difference between you and BROCK. CHRIST, man. Make me glad I'm putting massive time spanning between the fic taking place and the RGyarados episodes, boy. SHEESH.

If you like this, review. Fave's are nice... but reviews are better. Short reviews, long reviews, rambling reviews, big fat llama reviews, any reviews!

If no like, review and tell me so.

If not, I'll just continue anyway. Whenever I get around to it. C:

-KO13

...as an offhand note, who else watches Legend of Korra? Thundercats? FullMetal Alchemist/FMA: Brotherhood?


	10. Chapter 10

Apparently there are more fanfics featuring a Grimer (4, not counting M rated) as a main character than there are LanceMisty fics (just mine)

Not that I've anything against Grimer. But still. A GRIMER.

Somebody join the wagon with me! Imma so lonely ;_;

also, a few of the HeartgoldSoulsilver chapters of the Pokemon Adventures manga has shown up with english translations and OHMYGAWD I am fangirling on HgSs manga Lance so HARDCORE that I'm ROCK-HARDcore like Brock (wow that sounds weird. does that sound weird? I should probably take that back before I get in trouble)

Also Black/White 2. The tournaments. Lance. It has. Just get to the US already, and TAKE MY MONEY AAAAHHHHH

I need medication for this.

I'm convinced the internet hates the pokemon anime, because I've been trying like hardcore raging hard to find certain episodes for reference and none of the sites I find will give them to me BC . Hell, it took me two days to find those RedGyarados episodes, and I didn't even get to watch them all the way through (insert rage here) and I never found those damn Kyogre-Groudon episodes... christ, internet, I just want like four or five episodes to look at, it's not like I'm asking you to give me every season in dvd format!

To the following:

Violet Shadow Kurayami: Ahahaha, if I can find a cloning machine for him, I'll be sure to send you one. XD Feel that LanceMisty addiction, FEEL it I say! Mwahahahaha, kidding.

Crystal-Rock: Lance is still awesome ohmigoshLance *shameless fangirl*

Pokemonfan29: Misty 18+, Lance 23+. While the amount of years difference is questionable, there's no pedo-statutory-minoring here, I promise. For each region the anime covers, I stick a year or two for time, depending on how long the seasons are. Two on Kanto/Orange Islands, one n half for Johto, one in Hoenn, half a year for that time they went briefly back to Kanto, one and a half for Sinnoh, and so far a little over a year for Unova. Which...adds up to nine, roughly! Lot o years since the beginning of Ashy-boy's adventure. Anyway...

Anime-GuardianAngel: I wasn't actually planning on him figuring out until a few particular events had come to pass but without him knowing, it would turn to be a bit of a bonding hindrance, in my opinion, especially with the next couple chapters.

TopazDragon: I try not to let chapters be short, but when they are, I try to make sure there's at least some significant happenings going on.

Mizuki hikari: Oh, I don't know about that happening. Then they'd be just one Dragonite or Gyarados ride away from home, and that'd be the end! D8

Zeldachic459: I try. Funny, I feel like I'm going fast with them in some places, actually.

realperson909: AH No I didn't mean for heart attacks! 911! Lol anyway, I love ALL dem shows too, and I'm glad you love my fic so much C:

And oh noes, the "s" word shows up! *insert "we got a badass ova here" sarcasm face*

I'm going to go ahead and apologize for any OOCness (especially Lance, in this one. My god what have I done to you, here, Lance?) It happens to the best of us.

* * *

_People screaming, loud then faint as bodies run past him. His world is lurching, tossed this way and that by the forces of nature. Lightning flashing, flickering lights- reflections on the glass everywhere. Flight, past the lightning, the fire blazing, the screaming bodies flying past him, he flies deep into the steel belly of the ship._

_Shadows following him, there! No there! Pain, glittering steel swipes at him. Shadows all around, he's fighting shadows! Shadows with fists and kicks all flying at him. No...not shadows... men in shadows! Melted sapphire, cold as ice, flooding from blasted silver walls, so salty and repulsive to the tongue. Shadow-men all around, at his heels. He's too slow, one behind him with steel-suddenly the shadow falls and he's not so alone. _

_A fire goddess, no, red angel, no. Just a woman. A woman with fire in her body. She fights away the shadow men. He's not alone, he's not alone! The room quakes, fire rips them apart- he's flung out of the walls, he can't see what became of her._

_Falling..._

_Falling..._

_Darkness soaks him to the bone, crushing down on him. Desperation, terror, up, go up, go up he screams! He breaks the surface, fighting for his life, and finds steel waiting for him. He grips it, with the last strength he has._

_Hold on, just hold on...hold on..._

Sunrise. A beautiful wake of colors splashing the morning sky, as the sun begins to rise over the horizon. Light to greet the waking earth, enlightening the shadowed surface and invoking a sensation of peace and serenity.

If, of course, it weren't for a few particular things; one, a very unfortunate, uncomfortable, and inconveniently annoying particular trait of the male human body in regards of morning, two, Misty's unconscious intolerance of sleeping distance, and three, the dark flood of storm clouds looming in the distance.

Cold ocean water greatly helped calm and cool down the hardened heat below his waist, hence why after managing to miraculously untangle himself from a snoozing, clinging Misty and slowing his rapid-pumping heart, Lance was a little below hip-deep in the shore surf. Calming his awakened, raging body was proving difficult, as multiple thoughts jumped to and fro in his noggin, reinvigorating certain aspects of his flesh right as he had it on the run. The cold chill of the ocean was a helpful aid, however, and after several minutes of standing still in the chilly morning water, he had finally managed to rope in control.

"This is ridiculous," Lance growled lowly, slipping back on his pants and underwear, and pulling over his head his white tank. He knew he wasn't really _that_ kind of active with women, and while he was no stranger to sex, it was a long, long time ago and since had little experience with the female kind in general outside of camaraderie. He knew, the moment he found Misty, that perhaps he'd have a few spats with his hormones now that he was going to be in close proximity with her, nothing too bad...

Lance was not expecting to have a daily war with himself. Third day, storm-a-coming, and he was still having to wage war with his stupid hormones when he should be focusing on the tasks at hand. And what made it embarrassing was even though she was sleeping, the fact that his body was acting up right in front of Misty was terrifying in itself-what if she happened to wake up?!

Focus, damn you, FOCUS! Storm. Danger. Coming. Prepare.

Right.

Off in the distance, the storm clouds still loomed, inching closer every second that he watched. A strange-scented breeze wafted around the beach, he could almost feel the static in the air. They had a few hours, he guessed, before it would start. Problem was, it would probably feel like mere minutes to them.

"Sure looks menacing." came Misty's voice behind him. Lance craned his neck but didn't have to as she treaded through the sand until they were side by side.

"It's going to be nasty isn't it?"

He nodded, "We'll be okay, Misty." was all he could come up with, and to him it sounded terrible lacking in reassurance. The cavern was high up from the tides when they had found it, and while neither of them could stand in it they could comfortably sit, or be at a slightly raised up laying position relatively okay. It had a few openings on the inner walls where the cliff, evidently a narrow strip of rocky land stuck near the tides, had been eroded and bashed upon over many long years. If he tried hard enough, though for what reason he couldn't think of, the small marble sized holes could probably be bashed open just a bit more with a good kick. Either way, there were places for oxygen to leak in, for fresh air to go in and out, and for them to be mostly kept safe from high tide, wind, and creatures of the deep. But would it really stand up to the storm? Was it really as safe as he was hoping?

And the storm-how long would it last? An hour? Part of the day? An entire night?

He noticed orange in the corner of his eye and he turned to see Misty leaned to the side looking at him.

"What?"

"You frown a lot when you're thinking." she said curiously.

"Huh?" he sputtered too late as Misty slowly made her way to the campfire, where ash and a few hot coals managed to radiate heat from the last nights fire.

Strange girl, alright, he mused. One moment she could be dreary and sad, or an angry spitfire, the next moment all smiles. A bit mistifying as well, pardoning the pun. Lance still had a ways to go before he would come to understand the pretty, fire-personified girl.

Before the sun had set yesterday, they had opted to fill everything they could reasonably carry with fresh water from the stream. The fish they had caught wouldn't last an entire two days, not without making them sick he reckoned, so they instead ate what they had caught, and resolved for coconuts to hold them over during the storm. It wouldn't be much, but it was better than going in empty handed.

They drained the milk into one of the water bottles, and stripped the jelly-like meat from the each of the nuts inside. Collecting as much as they could, about six coconuts' worth, they wrapped the meat up in a relatively clean palm tree leaf, tied tight and closed by a thin strip of cloth to ensure it would stay that way. That done, they placed all their belongings underneath the make-shift shelter and forced the small shelter to collapse on top of them before taking a few rocks from the fire and digging them onto the corner to ensure the weight and proximity was too low to the ground to keep it from going flying.

"If it goes during the storm, we can always just make a new one." Lance told himself.

"A bigger, better one, with both of us working on it." Misty assured him.

"Of course," he smirked, then settled next to the cleanest pile of clothes, and the sharp end of the broken spear from yesterday. "Now, let's see how those wounds are doing." It had only been one night and morning since the Carvanha incident, since wrapping it up, but he could see pink hues poking through the cloth, and if they were going to trial through a storm of all things, he wanted both of them to go in ready, and as freshened as could be. That included wounds.

It looked pretty much as it had when they had finished cauterizing the flesh. Red, blackened blood, the surface as irregular and rough as rocky hills on a valley. The skin wasn't as hot pink as it was the other day, and tiny droplets of scarlet barely squeezed out from underneath, but it looked good all things considered. It sickened him to look at such a terrible spot marring her otherwise wonderfully silky smooth leg-STOP-but at least it didn't appear infected, and that was good. Relieved, Lance washed it with a little water, patted dry, and re-wrapped it with the clean cloth, and checked her arm as well.

Once finished, before he could begin to move to try to unwrap his own, Misty's hand snapped into action, moving aside his hands like leaves.

"Misty, it's okay, I-"

"No, I'll do it." she said sternly. His lips parted to let loose a torrent of words to convince her otherwise. He really was fine, he could fix his own self up, but the sudden determination, the strange darkness that plagued her aquatic orbs disturbed and confused him. She cut in, "It's because of me you got this. If nothing else, let me help with this... Let me be useful."

Lance was rendered completely helpless at her voice. It had immediately taken a sudden volume turn into a soft plea, like a whisper, something fragile and almost sad that he couldn't bear it. Voiceless, he nodded and let Misty take over. While her eyes lost track of the world around them save for the wrapped up injury, Lance allowed his own to wander.

Which, truth be told, never strayed from Misty.

Tangled and dirty a mess as it was, her hair was a pretty orange color he admitted. Like tangerines, or the decadent orange of a goldeen, or the glossy, gorgeous tails of a vulpix. It had fallen out of its side-ponytail long ago with the hairband wrapped around her thin, fragile wrist, and fell down to her collar bone in tangled waves, with a few curls turning to frame her face.

Her eyes were somewhere lost between green, turquoise, and deep blue, a color that outmatched any other's attempt to copy the crystal waters of the ocean no matter what shade it was. Like looking at the sky and sea all at once, the two unyielding worlds somehow melding into one whirlpool. Admittedly...one could get lost in them.

The round baby fat of childhood had disappeared, and while still slightly rounded her face filled out with a clearly more womanly profile. Her lips were given a slight fulfillment that made them tempting, or charming, or contagious depending on the kind of smile was adorning them. The eyebrows, a barely darker shade of orange, were thin and clean-cut, and the nose pointed at its tip and curved along the bridge and petite.

She had switched out her other top but kept her jacket over her shoulders for the red tank they had retrieved from the luggage two days prior, the color darkened from its previous tumble in the ocean. Its slightly dark contrast brought out the fair, peach color of her skin that made her skin appear healthy and bright, give or take the red reaction to the sunlight. The red of the mens' tank also gave her body a a subtle, suggestive emphasis. The red was bright here and dark there to showcase exactly where the full curves of her breasts, and the dip of her waist were (shameful as it was for him to admit that his eyes were drawn to both), while still being a size too big and curtaining over to hint at the body beneath hidden from his sight. Her hips were wider, emphasizing the curve and small of her waist, and by Arceus her legs were gorgeous.

Misty wasn't big, when she stood up her forehead was level with Lance's collar bone, but what gave her body some of its height were her long, toned swimmers' legs. The contours of muscle accented just right the length and healthy glow of her thighs and calves, and as his treatment of her wounds had already proven, they were very much smooth to the touch.

...How many years had it really been since that Johto mishap? Three? Four? Lance could hardly remember, but he clearly recalled the scrawny red head girl, with her wide aquatic eyes and the tiny baby Togepi nestled sweetly in her arms. However many years ago it had been, time had changed her. The small, scrawny girl had been replaced by a petite and fair beauty, with a slim waist, toned limbs, smooth stomach, and just enough curves to tease the hell out of a man's eyes.

He wondered if she was even aware of the beauty nature had given her. She wasn't that outrageously curvacious figure Lorelei wielded and flaunted like a weapon, but a woman doesn't have to be sexy to be beautiful. Misty's was that of a sweet, spirited, loving beauty, who pulled you to her like a magnet by the strings of your heart instead of the loins (..._well...mostly_...).

As far as he had seen, Misty wasn't that babe you wanted to date, or dreamed of dating. She was that woman you wanted to love, in one manner or another. Honestly, he could grow to like her, if he hadn't already. Maybe even-

Don't be ridiculous, he scorned inwardly, you don't have that luxury here. You're getting deep. You can't _risk_ deep. Not here. Not now. And probably not ever.

You're _friends_ and that's all it can ever be. So shove it, hormones!

-o00o-

While her hands busied themselves with washing, drying, and re-wrapping the gash in his abdomen, Misty's mind wandered far off to mystic places where her trains of thoughts were long, almost never-ending. The trance continued on even as she finished and he replaced his shirt over his head, and they separated to find every last little thing they needed to take care of before the storm hit them.

That wasn't to say she was inattentive! No, she was perfectly aware of the wind picking up, whipping up the loose sand from the ground and the waves of the ocean shore breaking higher, growing bigger. She was aware of every task she started and completed. She was aware of Lance pointedly glaring at the brewing clouds looming closer. She was even acutely aware of the sore ache in her leg, an occasional sharp sensation of pain lacing up her calves, and the lethargic pace with which it was moving for her.

He really does have a lot of scars, she thought to himself. She had been perfectly able of catching out of the corner of her eye the multiple ribbons of pale scar tissue adorning Lance's body while she had taken care of the wound, and was not ashamed to admit her eyes had indeed taken in the placements and the accentuation of the scars along the various contours of muscle over his body. They varied in size and shape, some smooth cut as if by a fine knife, and some were rough, jagged edged, and wide as if from something nature-formed like claws, too asymmetrical and rough to be caused by anything man made other than a bullet, and there were a few of those too. A few coincided or intersected each other, making criss-crossing or zig-zagging lines marring his fairly tan skin; a few deep looking, others not so.

Prior to their situation, she remembered from their first meeting to every televised show that he never wore short sleeves, even when he was battling a challenger in the hottest month of the summer. Always he had long sleeves, whether it was a jacket underneath his cape, that red and black get-up when they took down the Rockets at Lake of Rage, or that sleek gold, blue, and black pants and shirt. Seeing the long ribbons of pale tissue against his fair complexion on his arms, she could see why he would try to hide his body from view.

Just how hard a life does one lead, to have all those scars? Misty wondered. He had let loose from his tongue a few other scar stories among his other tales, and each had its own different and unique measure of brutality and pain that she could pick up on even when he refused to relay certain details(...and curiously avoiding tales from before his fourteenth birthday). She remembered the Champions before him, how interviews on the television had them pour their lives out to the media, and their hardships and struggles to get the position they held, but Lance... he was secretive. He held his past close to him, under wraps so that whenever the media desperately burrowed for info they got the minimal description.

Not that the interviews mattered much, because for Mew's sake the guy was an Arceus-flipping hero to the regions' masses everywhere! Kanto and Johto's personal, untouchable Superman, minus the powers!

But with all the elusiveness, the scars, Misty had to wonder, just how hard a life has he lead? What kind of hardships and painful struggles has he had to endure, for them to leave so many reminders and memoirs on his skin?

Rain suddenly started coming down, the wind blowing hard enough to force the palm trees over in a harsh lean, and suddenly the tense but calm attitude was shattered like glass. Lance snatched the things they were to take with them, and Misty spared a last glance at the rest they were leaving behind, to make sure it was weighted down in the sand as securely as possible before the two raced towards the rock shelves.

Either by tide or wind or both, the water levels had risen drastically, and the darkening sky from clouds steadily blocking out the sun hindered their ability to see into the choppy depths. Lance led the way, making absolute sure that he had a sure footing on a solid bottom before he would turn to Misty and bring her to his level- and by bringing, he delicately took her by the hand and led her up the shelves. When the ledges were too big to simply step over or on top of, he would hoist her up as gently as he could first by her hands, then arms, then waist, and released his hold only when she had her footing. The water was getting deeper, and in certain spots the waves were high enough to brush her neck and throw sea foam at her mouth.

His hand on her was still a fairly new concept, and the contact sent a foreign, pleasant tingle through her body that had her blushing, though she forced away the thoughts that could follow in favor of focusing on the task at hand. Why that was so, Misty wasn't quite sure, but she was willing to admit that the feeling of his touch, grasping her hand, on her arm, her waist, was just a bit (just a lot) pleasant, nice, and reassuring. Considering the storm beginning its rage against them, it certainly helped her nerves. Thunder growled from high above, the rain pelting on them and flashes of lightning occasionally illuminated their surroundings brighter than stadium lights.

It seemed like it had taken longer to reach than the first time, either because of the terrorized anxiety spurring them on, or the hindering forces of nature against them, but finally they got to the rock enclave. To Lance's relief, the waves were still several, several feet away from reaching the edge of the hole. He helped Misty up first, their supplies in her arms as he was mindful of her leg, and then he climbed up inside after her. The air was a little stuffy now that they both occupied it, and the intense static had built up now that they were in one place, and all they could do now was hope mother nature would spare them and shine mercy on them.

"Is your leg okay?" Lance asked once they had managed to shuffle into something comfortable. He had to raise his voice no thanks to the pounding rain and roaring wind outside hindering their hearing, but she could hear him well enough. Both of them were dripping wet, either from sea water or the rain, from head to toe. She had settled on the wall facing him, back against the smooth rock, knees bent as she sat and releasing a tensed sigh. Facing her, he was sitting, legs bent at the knees though he was hunched over, eyes probably scrutinizing her for signs of pain or fatigue despite the darkness. The lightning flashes were the best source of light they had now, especially since the storm clouds had completely stolen away the sunlight and the enclave they took shelter in wasn't the greatest light-filter.

Misty nodded, before remembering he probably couldn't see her move her face very well in the dark. "Yeah, it feels sore and icky from the water, but it's okay. And you?"

"Same..."

They were so close to the raging storm, just a few inches from them that it was unnerving and scary. It wasn't long until Misty had inched close to Lance, nervous and cold as the air had gone from tropical hot to chilling from the cold water and harsh wind. He unfolded his cape from their things, rung some water out of it, and wordlessly, but red-cheeked, lifted his arm up for her to sneak closer. Once she had nestled as best as she could in between his arm and his chets, semi-curled into a ball with her knees up close to her torso and arms crossed in front of her chest, he laid his long cape over them both. They were both cold, and shivering, but proximity eventually settled a nice, assuring warmth (wet warm, but still warm) into their bodies.

They stayed that way, his face still lit hot and red though she couldn't see thanks to the darkness, and her shivers slowly dissipating as their natural body heat warmed the other. The rocks made it hard on their backs and bottoms, and it was far from laying or sitting on clouds, but it was unquestionably better than whatever the outside had to offer. Occasionally a particularly large wave would break against the wall and splatter its remains into their shelter, rain would manage to slip, or the wind would blow it and its cold blasts close enough into their shelter to be felt, but it hardly mattered; anything was better than being battered from it full-force.

The circumstances could stand to be better, but it really did feel nice, being close to another person like this, Misty admitted to herself.

"How long do you think it'll rage?" she asked.

"I don't know. Hopefully the most it'll go for is one night." he said honestly.

She snuggled the cape close to her face, reveling in the heat it helped insulate from their bodies. It smelled distinctly of sand and seawater, but underlying the nature smells was a familiar scent, something she couldn't really describe as anything else other than Lance.

"Hey Lance?"

"Hm?" The flesh around his collarbone stretched, a shift underneath her cheek she could feel that indicated the turn of his head towards her.

"How long did it take you to tame that Gyarados? Or master, or befriend, whatever you did, or call it."

"I'm assuming you mean the Red one." she nodded against him.

"It took a week to calm it down, and about a month before it finally trusted me." he answered.

"Wow..." she whispered, impressed. "Is it doing okay?" she asked, then sputtered, "N-not that I'm saying it wouldn't be okay under your care! Of course it'd be fine, you're a fantastic trainer!"

Lightning flashed distantly, enough to light up his face just right so she could see him smile. Smile at what?

"I know what you mean," he assured her.

"Yeah, uhm, I meant...you know, since it had been forced to evolve, is it okay?"

"Yes. He functions just as well as any Gyarados, and ever since we stopped Team Rocket and destroyed the signal in Mahogany, he's been fine."

"He?"

"Yep."

"...Are males supposed to be any different in behavior from females?"

He paused, thinking, "Not that I've seen. Why? Do you have one?"

"Yeah but she's-well, a she."

"Ah. Have you been having problems?" he inquired curiously.

"No, none at all," she smiled, "not since passing the Gym inspection and earning back its trust. That was a long time ago too."

He settled as best as he could against the wall, making Misty have to shuffle a bit to resit herself, "Would you mind telling me?"

"Well, sure, but it's a little embarrassing... not one of my fine moments as a gym-restoring gym leader..." she admitted. "It was a long time ago, right after the 09' Silver Conference. I was returning home to reclaim my duties as Gym Leader. When I got there, it turned out one of the gym's Magikarp had evolved while I was gone, and was in a rage. Nurse Joy was there giving me tips, but no matter what I did she just wouldn't calm down, or listen to me. I tried everything Joy had to offer, but nothing would work!"

Lance nodded, "I can understand that. First Gyarados I tamed Hydro-Pump'd me into a tree."

Misty flinched, imagining the pain, "Got a scar for that one too?"

"Surprisingly, no. I did have back problems for a few days though. Anyway, you were saying?"

"Well, after trying everything, and seeing as she refused to return to her pokeball, I couldn't think of anything to do for the moment but to keep the rest of the pokemon safe from her anger so while she was in the main aquarium, I trapped her in a cage."

She could tell the moment he tensed that Lance didn't like that at all.

"You what?"

"I know it wasn't a good thing to do, and just watching her continue raging against the bars hurt! I didn't want to cage her up like a prisoner, but-I just didn't know what else to do. She wasn't listening to me, wouldn't calm down, and had already hurt one of the other gym pokemon and I couldn't risk any one else getting hurt..."

He relaxed after a moment. He didn't like that decision, but he could understand, almost even sympathize with her logic. Gyarados by nature were a violently moody species, and it took a strong, disciplined hand to tame them properly, and it was even harder when they were fresh from evolution. Plus, it was to ensure the safety of others too, as well as the Gyarados.

"Then, these three jerk-brothers showed up. They kept saying I had lost control of my pokemon, wasn't fit to be gym leader, too scared to battle because I would lose too easily, etcetera, and challenged me to a battle not for a badge, but for the right to be Gym Leader."

"And you just took it?!" he said, astonished. As far as he had seen, Misty didn't go belly-up submissive in the face of aggression, and by her tale those guys had been anything but.

She nodded, "I did. Because deep down, I felt like most of what they said was true; I couldn't control Gyarados because of my own fears, I wasn't fit to be Gym Leader... it hurt. But I wasn't going to let them get my family's gym, not without a fight! So we set up to battle, and began the match with three one-on-one matches. At first things were okay; they weren't bad fighters, at least, they're Tentacruel were strong."

"Wait, 'they'?" he stopped her, "You mean, you fought all three of them?"

"Yep. Rules say only one challenger but they said the "Brothers" had challenged me, not just one. And then they decided to fight three-on-one and the other two brothers released their own Tentacruel to the battlefield."

"That's illegal!" Lance snapped, bringing Misty's gaze up at him, surprised. "They all should have been disqualified for that, no questions!"

"They were, but they wouldn't stop. I don't even understand what made them think they could reverse disqualification this way but..."

"But what?"

"They ordered all three Tentacruel to Poison Sting Gyarados."

"Those cheating-what kind of person can call themselves a trainer, ordering an attack on-"

"Lance!" Misty cut in, raising her hand to rest on his shoulder. "It's okay. They got their come-uppance. Gyarados is fine." she assured him.

"Still..." he said, bristling, "that's wrong, for a trainer to do such things! Against your Gyarados, AND you!"

"Would you let me finish?" she asked, vexed. She was touched by his concern, honestly, but it was getting annoying that he kept interrupting.

He huffed, before relaxing again, "Yes... so what did you do?"

"The only thing I could think of at the time; jumped in the water, and took the hit for Gyarados-"

"What?"

"-Before one of the Tentacruel tackled me and knocked the air out of me-"

"No!"

"-and things went blurry and black for a bit before I came to, on top of Gyarados's crest... Lance, are you okay?" she asked, concerned. it wasn't harsh shivering like that of someone suffering the cold, but she could tell he was shaking.

"They-they just stood there and let you nearly drown and-"

"I'm assuming word's cannot describe?"

"No they cannot!" he snarled, "I know there are good trainers, and I know there are bad trainers, but for them to attack a pokemon that wouldn't even be able to defend it-herself, and then let their attacks continue without skipping a beat on you? That's wrong, illegal, and they better get a very good come-uppance by your account or else they're in for trouble."

Honestly, Misty couldn't tell whether to be surprised at his vigor, flattered that he was so concerned and passionately backing her (and her pokemon) up and willing to do Mew-knows-what to those Invincible Jerk Brothers for her, or just both.

"How would you even begin to go get them when we're on this storm-struck island in who-knows-what ocean? That, and you don't even know their names."

"I have my ways," he assured her, though it sounded almost childish the way he said. Misty just shook her head in a fairly amused manner, at both his sentence and how passionate he was.

"Right. Where was I-oh yes! While I had blacked out briefly in the water, Gyarados had somehow managed to break the cage bars and swam me up to the surface to save me. Then the Jerk Brothers tried to bully Gyarados into defeat with some various attacks, but one Hyper Beam and Hydro Pump later they were blasting off."

His head slowly turned toward her, and he repeated the last two words, not quite sure of what he had just heard. "'Blasting off'?"

Misty blushed, "It's a term me, Ash, and Brock used. Whenever these three Rockets wold chase us everywhere, some how or other an attack from a pokemon or explosion in their equipment would send them flying into the sky, off into the distance to I don't even know where. Heck, while they went flying, the Rockets themselves even would scream "We're blasting off again" or something like that every time."

"...Blasting off?" he again repeated, an unrestrained chuckle in his voice.

Her arms folded and she looked away, flustered, "It was catchy, okay? They said it so much that eventually it just caught on."

"Okay," he lifted his hands up in submission, "so what happened after they 'blasted off'?"

"Well, Nurse Joy assured me should would make sure they would be banned from all official matches, and then congratulated me for passing the Gym Inspection. Turned out she was a Pokemon Inspection Agent, checking out Gym's to see if they were up to standards and closing the ones that didn't meet requirements. After that, I've been taking challenges left and right for the Gym, and Gyarados and I have been working great as trainer and pokemon." Misty said with a final smile.

"Good. That's good." Lance nodded, satisfied, for the moment, "... the Poison Sting." he mentioned.

"What about it?"

"Dd you get poisoned?"

"Luckily, no," Misty said, but her arm was shuffling under the cape, "I came close. After the battle, and Joy left, I was dizzy so I was taken to the hospital but I was fine, just mildly unbalanced and sick feeling. But I did get a memoir for it."

"A scar." There wasn't a question in that; he knew exactly what she meant by memoir.

She lifted the cape off and had raised up her tank top just a bit over her rib cage, and she waited. Lightning flashed outside, and Lance got to see the barest hint of paler-than-normal, scar-tissued flesh, a long trail hidden at the top by her shirt, and covered at the bottom by her shorts, that trailed down her left hip. "It hurt, I admit. But it's a reminder of what I did to earn my pokemon's trust, and to overcome my own fears for her safety. And it's one I'm proud of." Misty then lowered her shirt down, and replaced the cape over her and snuggled close to Lance for warmth, shivering as cold storm air invaded her body for the few seconds she had exposed her body to the elements.

"So tell me something about you." she said.

He nodded, "What would you like to hear?"

Misty frowned, contemplative. Truthfully though, she knew exactly what she wanted to ask, and was just stalling for time.

"Tell me about Blackthorn."

"Huh?" he had tensed back up. Touchy subject, perhaps?

"Tell me about Blackthorn. Growing up there, learning and training with dragons, your family, you know, that kind of Blackthorn stuff. Please?"

"I...well..." His hesitance, cute as it was, reminded Misty that he was a bit of a shy guy, apparently. As a Dragon Master and Champion, in battle he was as big and arrogant or as humble and proud as any other trainer was or could be in battle. Outside of battles, and Rocket-hunting...not so much. Maybe she was asking a bit much...

"It's okay, you don't have to tell-"

"No, no," he cut her off, and through the fabric of his shirt she felt his chest rise as he breathed in, "Just... some things are a bit...secrecy-bound in my family. Let me think."

"I get it." Misty nodded. She felt him breath, calm and contemplative for a moment while outside the storm continued roaring at them, angry at their shelter.

"Alright... I'm pretty sure you know, but Blackthorn's always had a clan dominantly living there, the Dragon User clan."

"Like the Ninjas in Fuscia?"

"Just like them. Without the ninjutsu, of course." he added, which earned a laugh from her, "Obviously by the name, and mine and Clair's specialization, our clan specialized and used only Dragon type pokemon. To our family, they were a sacred type, regarded as one of the most powerful out there. We had the Clan Leader, who also served as the Dragon-type Gym Leader of Blackthorn. Then there was our Elders, masters of older days; sort of like a group of board directors. They and the Clan Leader worked together to make important decisions on behalf of the clan. Our last remaining Elder is mine and Clair's grandfather, Ernest."

"How big was the clan?"

"Before this particularly disastrous winter that hit Blackthorn when I was really small? About forty plus." Misty whistled, impressed. "But our numbers dwindled until Clair, Elder, me, and a few other young ones were left."

"What about your parents?" she asked, and suddenly felt his chest stifle his breath, before returning to normal.

"My mother died during childbirth, and my father left the clan when I was eleven. We haven't seen or heard from him since."

Misty bit her lip, frowning deep and ashamed she had asked such an apparently personal question. "I...I'm so sorry."

A funny gust of breathe left his throat, and the arm looped loosely around her lightly gripped her shoulder, comforting or assuring her something, "It's alright. I came to terms about my mother a long time ago, and my father stopped being important to me once I left Blackthorn with Dratini and a Trainer's license; I was twelve."

"Still... my sisters and I lost our parents too. Daisy, my oldest sister, was old enough to take care of us then, but it was tough for all of us." she admitted. Curiously, his hand squeezed her should just a little tighter before loosening again.

"Anything else?"

"Tell me about training, or learning to train, with dragon types?" she said with a silent plea in her tone.

His mood, however well he hid it, brightened considerably for her to notice.

"Well, children weren't allowed to start learning to train with dragon types until we were six, but Clair and I had a few special privileges. Both our fathers were the sons of the former Leader and highest Elder, so we got to already play and loaf around like kids do with the young dratinis there, and horsea's."

"Let me guess- Dratini?" Misty spoke.

"Nope, Horsea's." It was only thanks to the conveniently timed lightning flash outside that she could see the attractive, boyish grin adorning his mouth, "because like all young boys at my age, I was a mischievous kid and had quickly discovered that a Horsea's smokescreen makes for _great_ pranks on Clair and my elders..."

* * *

How ba-a-a-ad can I be? I'm just writing what all comes to me, how ba-a-a-ad can I be, I'm just expanding the shipping tree, how ba-a-a-ad can I be, big hero Lance and sweet Misty, how ba-a-a-ad can I be, how bad can this ship possibly be?

ONCELER GET OUT OF MY HEAD! TAKE YOUR MARSHMALLOWS AND PANCAKES AND GUITAR AND PIMP SUIT AND JUST LEAVE MY POOR BRAIN ALONE I CAN'T TAKE ALL THIS CUTENESS N SWAG N ANGST N LOVE AT ONCE WAAUUUUUGH

The memory is from Cerulean Blues, an episode from the Pkmn Chronicles, a sort of Ash-less sideline episodes. I don't know during what season it aired, but the episode code for it is SS002, and it explains Misty's taming of her Gyarados, and shows her reclaiming her Gym Leader stat. It was actually pretty good, in my opinion, a nice Misty-centric episode. Also, made her Gyarados female. To my credit, it's gender hasn't been decided in the anime so I took a few liberties. I don't know what it is about Lance that begs for it, but something about Lance begs for angst. angst that he's gotten over, yes, but still angst.

I pulled the connecting-over-lost-parents card. Sue me.

Sorry for the long wait. College has been taking up most of my time. Stress, homework, time-managing, financial aid, supplies... it's been doing a real beating on inspiration and writing.

If you like this, review. Fave's are nice... but reviews are better. Short reviews, long reviews, rambling reviews, big fat llama reviews, any reviews!

If no like, review and tell me so.

If not, I'll just continue anyway. Whenever I get around to it. C:

-KO13

PS. Someone should draw Lance getting Hydro Pump'd by a Gyarados into a tree. Or just draw anybody getting Hydro Pump'd into a tree. Seems like it'd be hilarious. Or Lance using a Horsea to ink Clair.


	11. Chapter 11

FYI, my laptop decided to keel over and crash on itself, so I had to get a cheap, used dell with (some but not all) my files. Luckily, the only things I'm missing are programs and music, so I still have my documents and pictures, and I plan on buying a nice new laptop once income tax time comes around (or christmas, if I'm lucky).

Guess what guys? FILLER. *lightning flashes, screaming in the background, dramatic organ music*

Also, trivial fact: A tropical storm can last anywhere from less than a day to several weeks, depending on how long it has developed over warm water and seas. Once it hits cold water or land, it weakens and dies out.

Oh hey, another trivial fact: I LOVE coming up with my own headcanon for certain aspects (i.e. The Dragon Clan of Blackthorn, Lance's past) and more so to share it. I apologize if I start overwhelming anybody with it, especially with Lance. I just can't help it, though! Between him and Misty, he's the one with the huge, empty-mystery of a past or history (cause he was in, what, two episodes? Four, my bad, those were two-part episode/specials though) and therefor so much I can work with and need to develop so we can get his character understood (well, the kind of his character that _I've_ come up with for the story). It's just hard not to give it all away in one go.

Another (but last) trivial fact: If you hadn't figured already, this Lance is primarily anime Lance, but with aspects and characteristics of his other counterparts from the games and the Adventures manga as well as a few of my own twists, which includes but for now may not be limited to; his pokemon-telepathy, which is strongest with dragons, the expansion of his dragon pokemon collection (so he not only has Dragonite's evolution line and Red Gyarados, but also Salamence, Charizard, more than likely a Kindgra, Garchomp, and Altaria) and his family ties to Clair (cousins. Screw you anime, they're cousins.)

Another (okay I lied) trivial fact: Misty has a Dragonair in Pokemon Stadium 2. On the Black and White 2 game, you can face Misty and Lance (separately of course :C ) and Lance has a KINGDRA 8D

Screw it, I'm calling them Kingdrashiping. Or WaterDragonshipping. Which is what Kingdra is. A water Dragon. BWAHAHA I'm so clever.

To the following:

Violet Shadow Kurayami: Coolio! I look forward to seeing it when you get it done C:

pokefan29: Lol glad my rants are so entertaining C: yeah, sorry, college is a time-sucker. And as for the spelling, it was like 6 in the morning, my fingers flying all over the keyboard, heedless of typos, and after getting to the stopping point I was just like "THERE! TAKE IT! SLEEEEEEP!"

Anime-GuardianAngel: Oh yes, he may be an angsty heroic champ but even Lance was a silly little troublemaker as a kid! I'm sure Clair got back at him a few times, they were probably an infamous little duo in their clan. Lol, and I'll make sure to be the first few to review it if you get to making that oneshot! Note me when you've posted it, kay? 8D

TopazDragon: Thank you, it really does wonders for creativity and esteem and other such things to hear that the story's flowing well C: And yes, it's one of a many bonding moments, and it's one of a few catalysts for others as well C:

Teh Lotteh: Really? Wow, that-WOW thanks, I'm glad you've liked it so much! Gosh, that means a lot! Well, I'm trying to make sure they're interacting like, you know, normal stranded people would on an island, they're also quite different from normal people, and tale-swapping and building trust is a big deal in my opinion in regards toward Lance (who we have NO BACKSTORY to, besides mentioned fragments) whereas we've seen quite a bit of Misty's travels with Ash, and a few tidbits of her past before Ashy-boy. But it's not very...in-character, nor is it very sensable for them to just dump every little thing they have on each other in one go. At the same time, I don't want the build-up for their relationship to be so painstakingly slow, nor suddenly there in the snap of a finger... bah, I think I'm rambling. Anyway, thanks for the review!

New Readers:

UltimateLoveStorys, Chintz, Teh Lotteh (by the way, your Brothers fic with Lance and Dragonite made me cry it was so good C': ) Princessdiana516 (thanks for the review, and I'm glad you like it so far C: ) Lance Corporal Avocado, and Sakura-Blossom29.

Welcome aboard you five C:

Not that we need it much, but I gave us a brief break from Mist n Lance. Brief. Yes.

I'm going to go ahead and apologize for any OOCness that you think or know you see. It happens.

* * *

In the shipyard of Olivine port, a crowd had assimilated over the course of seconds. One look at the mew-forsaken heap of floating metal that had been pulled by tugboat was enough to attract people from all over the city, and a few miscellaneous characters passing by. However, none of the police allowed any civilians into the shipyard, and some of the workers inside even had to be classified or watched through hawk eyes to make sure they didn't mess with the scene of the crime.

Officers of police and investigators and detectives were running rampant on board of the destroyed Kanto S.S. Maria, or whatever they could walk on anyway. Most of the passenger rooms had been reduced to charred remains and multiple holes adorned the entire skeleton of the ship. The kitchen was busted, dining hall black, training room damaged, several decks had collapsed on each other, and the engine room was nigh impossible to reach with all the debris. If it was even still there- the crew that had found it believed that everything past the third deck and fourth compartments was lost to the sea.

Entering the ship was a young woman with soft, silvery blue hair, a yellow double-spaghetti strap top and white Capri pants and yellow pump shoes. Her footsteps clicked on the charred boards of the Maria, while beside her was a black and bone-armored hound called Houndoom that padded softly next to her. She passed the many different officers, investigators, and detectives, and altogether avoided the few reporters on-board like the plague. They stopped her for questions, and she lied a few times about on-going investigations. Truthfully, she had just gotten there, had only recently gotten the hint of the incident due to the absence of one of the other Elite Four, namely a certain ninja master, and the absence of the ship's docking time.

As she passed, she caught snippets of conversation, but as far as she and her Houndoom were concerned, none of their words held meaning. Deep in the bowels of the destroyed ship, they reached the staircase that would take occupants to the engine rooms, though it was blocked by debris.

"Hou!" her pokemon barked, and suddenly every piece of debris was blasted away by a sharply lit dark purple beam from Houndoom's maw.

"Thank you, Houndoom." she quipped as she walked onward into the darkness. It was a few minutes of walking in the blind darkness until a a few stray rays of light filtered in from punctured holes in the walls.

"Hound!" her pokemon barked. Its trainer had little time to jerk her head to the side when something sharp and metal suddenly flung at her head. It lodged with a loud thunk into the wooden door behind her that still held, though blackened, and the trainer frowned to herself as she retrieved the thrown ninja star.

"Do you know how rude it is, throwing stars at your coworkers?" she sneered at the darkness.

"You disturbed me." came the aged baritone voice. The source stepped into one of the filtered rays of light revealing a graying black haired, middle-aged man in shinobi outfit and a red violet scarf around his neck. Shuffling behind him was a large furry purple bug with bright red orbs for eyes and a white pair of antennae. "I was searching for clues, and you broke my concentration, so I thought you initially to be perhaps one of the perpetrators lingering on the ship. Be thankful your Houndoom sensed it coming, Karen."

"Veno-nat!" quipped his pokemon.

"Hmph, ninjas. Did you find anything?" the blue haired youth inquired. Upon the question, both man and bug pokemon turned around to the rest of the engine room. Venonat scurried off to the left, where the light was too small and distant to illuminate the giant shadows of machinery. He, on the other hand, led the way as they walked further into the large engine room.

"A few things. Mostly luggage, a few distinguishable items... no real luck yet." he growled.

"The entire crowd of police and reporters think it was some major screw up in the engines; an error made during construction of the ship and the voyage was unlucky enough to trigger it. But none of them are sure what or how. According to the remaining crew from the ship, there weren't any problems beforehand and then it all suddenly went to hell in a quick chain of explosions starting from the engine room all the way to the other end, right as the ship was crossing into Johto waters."

"Sounds logical...but that cannot be what caused this ship's destruction. Something else was at play. Something...foul."

"What exactly happened here, Koga?"

"It takes a trained eye to spot the cause, but even to you it should be obvious what occurred on this ship."

A delicate eyebrow lifted as Karen awaited for him to give her a straight answer. Koga was annoyingly cryptic that way. Between him and Will, the two could spin riddles all day around her until she got too frustrated and simply had Houndoom Fire Blast them.

"And that would be?"

"Veno! Veno-nat!" the bug suddenly started squealing. It jumped into their vision, hopping excitedly before it's master. Something black, and broken was in its grip. Koga knelt down and the bug pokemon ceased its excited hops to allow its master to take its gift.

It was small, and busted, but definitely formerly in a round shape. It laid flat in his hand, with rounded edges. The top was hanging limply by a wire, and inside it was busted or smoked clockwork and tiny gears. On the sides were two blasted straps, charred and most of their lengths burned away. Stroking his thumb against the surface, Koga wiped away the soot and charred glass on the broken top and revealed tick marks and numbers beneath.

"Nothing says sabotage and bombs like a broken clock with attached to straps."

"So this caused the explosion that destroyed the entire ship?" Karen asked, skeptical.

"Not alone. However much explosives that were strapped to this, I believe would be enough to puncture a hole in a wall, screw up the engines, but not take the entire ship into scrap and flames. No, there must have been a few more set up around the ship to set off. We were lucky to have found this one intact, however. The other locations throughout the ship were completely decimated by the force of destruction and fire that we hadn't previously found any of these." he explained, turning the decimated clock this way and that in has hands.

"I shall need time to take a look longer around the ship, and study the remains of the explosives."

"Then you have it." Karen said as if it were that simple. "Investigation on the ship's only begun. The police and investigators have just gotten the deck and the first two floors clearance'd for searching and half the damn ship, or what's left of it anyway. It still has a lot of blocked off areas from debris and water, not to mention that the lower back end of the ship is also still twenty leagues under the sea. The League will have no choice but to investigate personally anyway, considering who all's missing from the list."

"It isn't just the Champion?"

"A few other passengers," she admitted, "some crew members caught in explosives we assume, and a gym leader. One of the Waterflowers, no less. The media's going to love this, and Clair and Agatha's going to be on our asses once they release the news officially." she grumbled. "Whatever, I'm going to have to break it to the reporters. How much time are you going to need?"

"A while."

"I'll send a message to Will. Maybe his psychics can help speed up the progress." she said with a final tone and turned to leave.

"Have they identified the gym leader?" Koga inquired.

Karen stopped mid-step. Koga never usually asked much about his coworkers, even when he was with the gym leaders. Curiousity or no, it was unusual for him to question so blatantly about others, save for his daughter. She turned her head to see him, but his face was passive and void of emotion.

She shrugged, "Some girl, Minnie or Misty, the Cerulean gym leader, one of the Waterflower Sisters. Know her?"

"All gym leaders know each other." he lied smoothly. Karen studied him for anything to give him away, but couldn't catch anything, and soon she had left him and his Venonat in the engine room, presumably to round up the press and spin a few lies about on-going investigation.

"Veno-nat!" the bug chirped worriedly. The bug pokemon was relatively young in comparison to his other pokemon, but even its young memory remembered when a troublesome but good-hearted boy and his two friends came to Fuscia many years ago to get his gym badge. If even Venonat remembered, then Koga certainly did, clear as day. Especially when a redheaded girl managed to free their pokemon and save the day with her odd Psyduck.

He and his Venomoth still owed her and her friends for saving his Venomoth and his sister's Venonat.

He gazed down at the broken device in his hands, and scrapped his fingers against a thick layer of ash and charcoal. His eyes burned the image of the revealed surface of the clock into his mind, branding his brain with the insignia.

"Interesting."

A flash of red light burst from a pokeball, and from it formed a purple bat with four blue skinned wings, yellow scleroses and red eyes. It flapped its main two in the air, keeping its place in flight as it awaited commands. Koga took a thin stick of charcoal and paper from within his robe, and jotted down words before rolling it up and handing it to the Crobat. Normally he'd send the clock with it, but if Karen could get Will moved quickly to the ship, his clairvoyance would come in handy far better and quicker than to send it on a long journey back and forth from Olivine to Fuschia.

"Stop for nothing and no one. Janine and Aya reads this, and _only _Janine and Aya." he instructed the bat as its teeth parted open and then bit down on the slip in between the flattest of its fangs. Once secured, the crobat disappeared in a furiously fast blur of purple out of the ship.

-o00o-

There just wasn't any hope in determining the time for them. The sky was far too heavily blanketed by the storm clouds to allow rays of sunlight past, and their enclave too small and shadowed for anything less than a lightning strike to illuminate it with. None of them could be sure how many hours had passed since the storm began, and neither could they tell if it was daylight or nighttime anymore, it was just too dark.

They had altered positions a few times, trying to get somewhat comfortable and to relieve the cramped muscles in their bodies. It was proving difficult to relax with the impossibly hard rock all around them, and the terror of nature's elements just a couple inches from them. Backs hurt, legs ached restlessly, and all sorts of muscles moaned when moved from staying still for so long.

Through it all, though, Misty could confidently say she had never gotten to know somebody so well in so quick an amount of time than now, and all the knowledge she had obtained would make every one of his fanclubs back home shake in angry jealousy.

For instance; the first pokemon he had ever captured was Dratini, which had over his life evolved into his strongest pokemon Dragonite, but the first pokemon he had ever played with was Horsea, which had been part of many heists and pranks against his cousin Clair.

For instance; his clan solidly believed in the strength of the trainer's own body as well as their strength of heart in training and taming dragon pokemon. Physical fitness was a requirement, and every member was for their age or otherwise in top form; it was, in fact, common for particularly competitive masters to duel each other face to face in hand-to-hand combat instead of battling pokemon, or for a master to train beside his pokemon. Hence why Lance was, in Misty's delicate terms of course, absolutely _ripped_.

For instance; a long time ago, a year or two after starting his own pokemon journey, Lance had a bad experience with Team Rocket, back when the Team was just gaining fame and didn't quite have the infamy in Johto that it had in Kanto, and ever since had vowed one day to become strong enough to destroy them and anyone else who tried to misuse or hurt pokemon and other people for their own selfish gain.

For instance; he had lost an estimated count of ten battles growing up from twelve to eighteen, and an exact number of two losses as an Elite Four. Offhandedly, it had also taken him exactly one time as a Candidate to battle through the Elite Four and become accepted as one. It had taken Lorelei four, Agatha two, Karen three, and Will twice. The only other Elite Four that had matched his first-time win to join the Kanto-Johto Four was Bruno and Koga. He was still, however, the record holder for youngest Elite Four, and was the holder of second-longest on-going running champion reign, only succeeded by Alder from Unova (though lately there was talk of his coming retirement).

For instance; he wasn't a big fan of sweets, but he _did _have a preference to strawberry.

The list went on as the two red-heads passed back and forth stories and tales of themselves, and despite the terrifying elements of nature just inches away from taking her away, and the painful ache of stone against her skin, Misty found herself content beside the esteemed Champion.

As heroic and chivalrous as he was on the tv and that Lake of Rage incident years ago, he was just as equally sweet, she had come to realize, and considerate. He had a good sense of humor, and interesting enough, she had also begun to detect a hint of...dare she say, darkness. A small, dark shadow on his person, probably because of something from his past, and the stain on his otherwise clean persona only made him just that much human, more tangible and real and... well, quite magnetically attractive! Then there was his insatiable need to protect that usually got him carried away into trouble; not that he needed much help in those cases.

Well, besides this whole ship-wrecked mess, Misty thought with a depressive scowl. She and boats just weren't meant for each other, and she had no idea what had even convinced her to believe the ship she and Lance had been on would be any different. The S.S. St. Anna should have taught her that. If only she hadn't been convinced by her sister Daisy to meet them in Olivine, for a well-deserved break from her Gym Leader duties, then she wouldn't be stuck on the storm-wrecked island with none of her pokemon, and no way off!

...well, a small voice in her head began, it's not _all_ that bad. Sure, she was wet, dirty, thousands of miles away from home or society, stuck on an island, and she had no idea if her pokemon were safe or not, and with a banged up leg. But, her pokemon weren't pathetic. They weren't the strongest pokemon out there, but they knew how to hold their own, even Azurill. Considering her circumstances, she was pretty warm beside Lance, and while any form of civilization could be possibly thousands of miles away, at least she wasn't alone. She had Lance.

Misty didn't bother stifling the yawn that swelled in her lungs and forced its way out; she couldn't possibly figure out the time, and it was going to be difficult to sleep on solid rocks, but she supposed she could make do. If the storm lasted only for the night, and Mew did she pray that it would, then once it was over her and Lance could go on in the morning and afternoon setting up a new, better shelter. Once that was done, she vowed to herself that she was going to spend what time she would have left during the day to search for her pokemon, and for anymore washed-up salvageable's from the ship. Permitting, of course, that her leg would let her do all the trudging around.

She wondered what her friends and sisters were doing, right then. Was Brock in the middle of his doctor duties, or was he hopelessly wandering after some girl? Were her sisters doing a show, or was Daisy in the middle of a gym battle, or maybe they were packing up their things to meet up with Misty in Olivine, _like they were all supposed _to? Was Ash battling some other big-dreaming trainer, or getting a new badge, catching a new pokemon, finding another new girl? Where were her pokemon, and were they safe? While she desperately wanted her friends and family to know of what happened and get a search party going to rescue Lance and herself from the island, something inside her hoped they would rest for the night without knowing.

Misty just wasn't sure whether that was because she didn't want them to be troubled with the ship sinking until later, or because she selfishly enjoyed making a close friend out of Lance.

Maybe a bit of both?

-o00o-

He hadn't thought about his past in a long, long time. Mostly because a lot of it wasn't relevant to his duties as Champ, but part of him never cared to either. It wasn't particularly bad, really. His clan wasn't terribly constricting, they had supported him when he had left to begin his journeys long ago, and besides that one big, nasty blizzard, nothing terribly tragic had happened to leave him or the others scarred, and he hadn't any real quarrel with any of the members either...

...well, besides his father. Just thinking about his old man had bristled his nerves, and he could feel an ancient but familiar wave of hate and anger rise as he had mentioned him to Misty.

Then there was _that_ time, the one secret he intended to keep locked away and never let another soul hear or know of; no one, save his Dragonite, knew it, and he prayed it would stay that way. It was bad enough his dreams still liked to remind him of it now and again, and further that the secret itself was the true catalyst for the whole Anti-Rocket mission he had started for himself. He had to make up for it, he _had_ to.

Misty shifted beside him, and his thoughts found themselves shifting away from the darkness inside him, his own anger and hate melting away into a soothing calm. Her head was low, the orange fringe of her bangs covering her eyes even though he wouldn't be able to see them anyway from all the darkness around them. The steady rise and fall of her body's breathing led him to believe she was asleep, and he didn't blame her for it. It was so dark around them, and the storm relentless in beating the island and coves that he couldn't tell time at all. For all he knew, it could still be mid-day or even five in the morning!

He was, for lack of better word, amazed at how easily he had opened himself to her. It scared him, almost, that just the smallest or simplest questions she asked had him releasing so many secrets and memories, that he was scared he'd slipped and given away too much of himself. So much trust in one night-or day, whatever- and no matter what impression he had of her, she could just as easily betray him. If-no, _when_, Lance, _when_, don't think like that- they got rescued from the island, all it would take would be one five-minute interview with a nosy reporter and everything he had built up, all the effort to keep the media away from his past, his family, his secrets, away from him would be gone. Destroyed, in the snap of a finger.

And yet, Lance couldn't stop himself. All of his life, he had kept to himself so many things, so many memories and events of his life had been kept under wraps to the point that he could count on just one hand the people who knew certain things about him, and he could count on only one finger the one being that knew every single fact, detail, and angle about him and his life, and that was his Dragonite. Sad perhaps, but true. And then suddenly, on this Arceus-forsaken island, miles and miles away from all the prying ears and eyes that he couldn't afford to let in and know the truth, he has Misty along for the ride.

Maybe that was why? Maybe he was just so damn tired of bearing his history alone, and finally gave in. He finally gave into the temptation that had taunted him all those times he visited his family in Blackthorn, the one-on-one little duels with Clair, or the private meditations with the Elder. He really was; he was tired of bearing it on his shoulders for so long all alone, having all his mistakes, losses, his pain all to himself with not a single other soul to bear it with him, if only for a while. A soul that hadn't seen or been with him either; a fresh slate, so to speak.

But to Misty, of all people? Not Clair, or the Elder, or even Agatha, but Misty?

But was that really a bad thing? He didn't really feel like it was, honestly. He had left out several key details in some of his tales, but she certainly listened to him, was understanding, and the best part was it wasn't one-sided. She too had opened up to him, told him of her own life, her own experiences, and he was amazed at how easily she had listened to him and returned the favor, if not a little thrilled.

Lance was used to recluses like him, not so much in lifestyle but in themselves. Agatha, Lorelei, even Clair and the Elder were adamant about keeping their pasts to themselves. He and Clair knew each others childhood because they had grown up, but anything that had happened after he turned twelve to when he started contacting the clan again when he was seventeen and just became an Elite Four, either his or her experiences, were unspoken forbidden subjects.

Misty wasn't like them. She was an open book, and she gladly opened her pages to him, and for someone to be so open like that with him was a strange concept, but definitely a welcomed and appreciated one. He wasn't so naive as to believe she was the only person in the world to be so open, but that she was the first to get close to him this way was what struck him.

Close to him...she was close to him now, wasn't she? He could certainly affirm the that her safety had been the first thing in his mind ever since she had so strangely insisted made them "restart" as Lance and Misty rather than the Champion and a Gym Leader and made friends of the other. And he definitely could say the few tales she had that detailed her or someone close to her getting hurt tugged at the strings of his heart.

He enjoyed her company (though given the situation, it wasn't like he had another option), and despite how easily she was effortlessly and unknowingly tearing down some of his barriers, he was okay, if not thankful. Why, he wasn't sure; maybe he was tired of that too. Tired of distancing himself from others, of always holding up the barriers, but he was too afraid to let them down himself.

Maybe he was reading too deeply into this, he thought. Getting too sentimental. Given what had happened, there could be some sort of mental trauma going on in his head and he just didn't know it. Maybe making him read or think too much when really, their friendship had only begun, and it had only been a few days since they met. Lance shrugged it off; maybe, maybe not, but it could be dealt with later.

Right now, and he let a yawn of his own loose, he was more concerned with the storm bearing against them, and for both of their sakes he hoped it wouldn't last long. He had a friend in her, a confidant perhaps, and so long as she was breathing beside him Lance was going to make sure she stayed safe.

Admittedly, though, Misty was quite warm and he wouldn't bother denying to himself that her presence next to him, as she snuggled into him in her sleep, was very welcome. Lance would simply have to lie to himself that, as his mind became numb with fatigue and sleep, that his head wasn't laying atop Misty's, nor was he tucking her own orange-haired head into the nook of his neck, or that the arm draped loosely around her shoulders was ever so slightly pulling her closer to him... Or that amongst the roaring winds and crashing waves just inches away, he was finding comfort in the simplistic, rhythmic sound of her breathing in his ear.

* * *

I'll be honest. I... I don't know how I feel about this chapter. It reaches roughly over 4,600 words, and I'm pretty okay with chapters as long as they succeed 2,600. I guess I'm biased against chapters that seem like fillers? I like it but hate it, maybe I feel I revealed too much or went too far with something, or that it just doesn't move the way I want it to, no matter how many times I re-examine it and look for something to make it not so unsure-neutral-y to me... one of those chapters of "they still have to be stuck here, sorry, next chapter can fix that though" I guess.

Hell, maybe it's the angst.

For those that do not remember, the one (and only -_-; ) episode Koga debuted in featured an anime-only character named Aya, who was his sister. Also, if you will recall (which I don't, so just go google it and watch) the active hero of the episode, for once, wasn't Ash, but was instead Misty and her Psyduck. (insert fist pump here) GO GIRL! But point being, Aya's a legit character from the anime, and Janine's his legit daughter from the games, yo.

Also, for those of you (like me) that are all "NOOOO give me MOAR LANCEMISTY" I wrote up something quick. It's not really LanceMisty, but really just me messing with Misty's sisters... mostly... It's just a oneshot, and admittedly a really bad written one *sob* but look for it either in My Stories or search Misty and Daisy as the characters with the title Misty's Mystery Date. Probably not my best work, but eh. I had fun.

If you like this, review. Fave's are nice... but reviews are better. Short reviews, long reviews, rambling reviews, big fat llama reviews, any reviews!

If no like, review and tell me so.

If not, I'll just continue anyway. Whenever I get around to it. C:

-K-

Wait, before I go; it's been a while since it hit, but for those of you who are, or know somebody who is, suffering in one way or another because of Sandy, you/they have my most sincerest apologies that such a tragedy has befallen, that no matter what happens, don't ever give up hope, and that you/they will be and are always in my prayers.

-KuraOkami13


	12. Chapter 12

To the following:

Crystal-Rock: Well, thanks, glad that you enjoyed it! Yeah, them ninjas be too cool! I've always had a soft spot for Koga. Not as much as Lance, though. But I felt we needed a small break, and to remind some of us that there was, indeed, a series of unfortunate events that led to their situation, that may not be so random as they seem (wink wink).

Anime-GuardianAngel: Lol, am I giving you dem feels? XD

TopazDragon: I guess I'm just used to writing (and thinking that I'm not being that fantastic at) action-things, and here I really wanted to dive deeper into their characters but still leaving a good portion for us and the characters themselves to continue to discover(especially with Lance being such a clean slate to use). And for a moment I wanted to branch out and remind us that the couple aren't the only ones doing anything, ship wreaks don't go quietly by in the news, and maybe hint at a few not-so-coincidential happenings.

japaneserockergirl: Yeah, I suppose it's not so bad a chapter, I guess it's that I went deeper and stayed to character analysis with them, and I'm not totally used to that. I think the creators weren't looking to get deep with characters really, considering it IS a kids show, and the audience they want to forever have in their hands is each new generation of kids. It's why I really like the Pokemon Special manga (also known as Pokemon Adventures) is, while they still can't decide whether to call the RBY rival Blue or Green even in the RubySapphire chapters (lol) it's a bit more grown up in concept (and Yellow is absolutely ADORABLE). And I too was disappointed they hadn't done anything with Janine (me watching anime:"...Son, I am disappoint.") and I wish they would have let the Chronicles continue, let us see the progression of every other person's lives go while Ash does his journey. I know one of the underlying themes of Pokemon is "Life changes, you go places, meet new friends, have to let go old friends and hope to see them again later" and so on, but I hate that we don't see what changes for his old friends, like what is Brock going through as he becomes a Poke-doctor, does Misty have to open up her gym's roster now that more foreign region trainers come to Kanto, does Gary get to break from his research and visit Professor Oak, what's Tracey up to, where's Ritchie, what are a few events and mysteries Ash's Squirtle faces as part of the squad, what about Pidgeot's flock-there are so many characters that Ash's journey's affected, and I hate that the show stopped showing us how they were affected. And those small adventures of Jimmy and Marina (Gold n Crystal's anime versions) were pretty neat too, we finally gave Raikou the electric legendary his own special! Ah, dear I'm rambling, anyway, thanks for the review!

sesshoumaru-sama's lover: (1) A long time, (2) not telling that, (3) updating right now, and (4) I don't know but I don't mind the questions at all so ask away! C:

Alumina: Oh gosh that Raikou special with Marina XD her fangirling made my day, people do not even know how much. Nah, I didn't much count the cameos. I'm not saying anything or naming anything...but holy crap are you freaking PSYCHIC?

Limplict: Haha, thank you! Glad you like it so much so far, and trust me, a LOT of us could fangirl over Lance all day, well I would anyway. As for Misty, eh well, I can't promise she won't land herself in some more trouble that'll put her in that damsel-in-distress role buuuuuut I can promise she'll be getting her drive back...soon... C:

New Readers: mupp3tbab3h, Alumina, sesshoumaru-sama's lover, sonicxjones, and limplict

Welcome aboard C:

I'm a little curious; so far the reception of you guys said the small break with Karen and Koga was good, and I was wondering whether I should include more of those short breaks at the beginning or the end of each chapter or every other chapter. They wouldn't be long, just quick snips of what's going on outside the island, like little "meanwhile..."'s but the focus of the story would still be on Lance and Mist, we'd just also be getting extras of "Oh, by the way, the rest of the world's doing this too". What do you guys think?

Also, I'm sorry I didn't ask everyone, (only like five) but for those of you in the know: I completely lied, and the verdict's Growlithe.

I'm going to go ahead and apologize for any OOCness that you think or know you see. It happens.

I hope you guys like Water-types, cause they just busted into the chapter and made themselves comfy while I wasn't looking.

* * *

Interestingly enough, they weren't the only ones to have sought shelter from the storm; they were just the first to get inside the cave. Sometime during the night, or maybe even an hour after she had fallen asleep-the time was still indeterminable-a particularly loud blast of thunder had jolted her awake and Misty had noticed despite the terrible amount of lighting filtering for her eyes to see that a variety of small pokemon had or were in the process of getting inside. Most were water-type, or she thought they were anyway, and given that pokemon were supposed to be more in tune with nature than humans, she was mildly surprised they hadn't sought shelter earlier. Perhaps their own shelters had been taken by others, or were too weak to handle the storm somehow?

Either way, a couple lobster-like pokemon called Corphish had crawled inside and curled up in a corner to sleep, along with a few white and blue sea-gull pokemon, Wingull, that were nestled into each other, switching stares of absolute fear between the storm outside and Misty and Lance. A squirtle and slowpoke were desperately trying to climb in, though it wasn't so obvious with how lethargic the Slowpoke was climbing, and consistently slipping.

Managing to separate herself from Lance-huh, she didn't remember his arm being _that_ close...- Misty grasped the Squirtle's arms and pulled him in first. The turtle pokemon was absolutely shocked to find an occupant in the cave, and more so that it wasn't a pokemon, but when it started to struggle she settled him with the other pokemon before going after the Slowpoke. She'd have to let it deal with her presence once she got the Slowpoke into safety.

"Misty w-what are you-" Lance's surprised, groggy from sleep voice jumped from behind her, interlacing with a flash of timely lightning above.

"Help me!" she cut him, trying to pull in the big pink pokemon. It was ridiculously heavy, for its size! Or maybe her arms were just weak, or her muscles hadn't fully awoke from their rest? Either way, the storm's wind was pulling the pokemon stronger away than she could pull it in.

Lance's frame shifted and he was then right behind her. His hands grasped just above hers on the Slowpoke's legs, and with his added strength they were able to get the Slowpoke inside their small, and now very cramped cave. Unable to move much, Lance found himself the metaphorical pillow as Misty was laid right on top of him, her back on his torso, while the heavy pink and white pokemon rested lazily and contently on Misty's lower body.

"Oh come on, don't you get comfy _on_ me!" Misty snapped at it. The pink lug was heavy!

It blinked slowly at Misty, and opened its mouth even slower, and let loose a lethargic, calm "Sslooooooooooooooooooooooooo ooooooooowwwwww..." and let its fleshy pink head plop down onto the bottom portion of her stomach, heedless of the fact that Misty wasn't a pokemon but a human. Too late.

Unable to resist the temptation, Misty's hand lifted and scratched softly at the back of one of its rounded ears. For several, long seconds the Slowpoke didn't react at all at her touch. Finally, after a long delay the Slowpoke's head turned slightly into her fingers, and a pleased "Sloooooooooooowwwww..." found its way out of the pokemon's mouth.

Misty giggled, and looked at the other pokemon. The Corphish were snoozing along in their curled up positions, unaware of anything going on around them. The wingull were very much afraid of them still, while the Squirtle had become brave by Slowpoke's reaction and crawled closer to them. Though, she considered, it might also be in need of warmth rather than being friendly.

"These are all water-types. I can understand the Wingull being here, since it's a bird," Lance began musing, "but what I don't understand is what are the other ones doing here. They should be safe and sound in the reefs."

"Landlubbers aren't the only ones afraid of storms." Misty replied with a bit of sailor-talking terminology, "At the Cerulean cape, some storms are bad enough that I've found chunks of the coral wash ashore. The water beneath the surface is dangerous too, it's just that those of us above the surface get, I don't know, the bigger, badder part of the storm. You know, with all the lightning and wind, plus water. Maybe some of their shelters underneath weren't enough to take the storm? OR got taken by another pokemon?"

"Maybe." Lance agreed.

"Squirtle-squir," the squirtle said, inching closer, wary of them, but also impressed by her help and the Slowpoke's content nature.

"Hey there, it's okay, we're harmless." Misty cooed, not even skipping a beat as she smiled, "He only _looks_ fierce, I promise."

"What? Hey!" She could tell by tone alone that Lance wasn't offended, just surprised, and perhaps a bit amused.

"Ssslooooooooooooooooooooooww wwww..." the pink pokemon yawned, and whatever it said apparently quelled the Squirtle's suspicion though the fearful Wingull behind it were anything but soothed. He relaxed beside the two humans, and after poking Misty's and Lance's side, and receiving a cute jump from Misty who was ticklish, the Squirtle plopped down beside them. His head was right under her arm that was scratching the Slowpoke's ear, so she switched arms and carefully laid her left on the front, softer side of his shell while her right arm draped over Slowpoke.

"Squir!" it said, its own blue arms falling over hers and smiling at the two humans, appreciative of their warmth.

"Well, at least they all are friendly." Lance mused, amused by the Squirtle's attitude and the Slowpoke's contentment.

"Yeah, though I wouldn't mind Slowpoke here being a few pounds lighter. I'm afraid my legs might fall asleep." Misty admitted. Her legs weren't falling asleep as she spoke, it was just the big pokemon was rather heavy!

Underneath she could feel Lance's body shift, and the weight of the slowpoke had slightly lifted. Now his legs were on either side of her and barely lifted, helping distribute the weight of the pink pokemon.

"Thanks." Misty voiced, thankful that the lighting around them was awful. She was blushing, probably as pink as the Slowpoke's skin, thinking about how their current position was, she supposed, rather intimate. It wasn't that she particularly minded, as the combination of his body behind her and the Slowpoke on top of the cape draped over them kept her pleasantly warm, even though the Slowpoke and Squirtle were wet from the rain. Plus his body was a lot nicer to be propped or laid against than the rock was. It was that the intimacy the position usually was associated with in her mind had her slightly alarmed, and Misty wondered if Lance was bothered by it too. Did he think about it? Or did it not bother him? Or maybe he was ignorant about it?

"No problem." he nodded. Misty supposed he didn't then either way, if his tone was anything to go by. She let her head fall back onto his chest, which was pleasantly soft thanks to his clothes, but solid with muscle too. Then a chorus of grumbles interrupted the ensued, tentative silence and Misty was only half aware that part of the grumbles could be traced to the thunder outside, and that her stomach was feeling particularly empty.

The Squirtle shyly grabbed at the midsection of its front shell, just as Misty's hand instinctively grabbed at hers, and she felt the barest of movement of Lance's own stomach at her back. The Wingull tried to play cool and keep unnoticed, but the way they shifted with soft cries and stared ruefully at their feathery bellies was tell-tale enough.

Well, when you're hungry, you shouldn't stay that way, Misty mused, though they didn't have much to spare... but it didn't feel right to leave the pokemon out of it either. Reading her mind, Lance leaned a bit toward their stuff, which was bundled in the adjacent corner and he grabbed at the packed up food, as pathetic in amount as they had.

Slowpoke then groaned, "Sloooooooooooooow," several seconds after his own tummy grumbled.

Fantastic. Save for the sleeping Corphishes, everyone in the cave was hungry.

"Oh come on, you can fish with that tail!" Misty said with frustration at the Slowpoke, though it was mostly empty in feeling anyway. She wasn't really mad. In reply, the Slowpoke blinked slowly a few times at her, which wasn't really a reply at all.

"Bah, whatever." she took the wrapped up coconut meat they had long before harvested and started, as best as she could, to make equal rations of the jelly-like meat. Since being removed from the husk, it had lost some of its gelatinous attributes and become more solid, and fleshy. She split it first in half, then one of the halves into as many but decent sized pieces and handed the other half to Lance to re-wrap and put it aside.

The eight pieces were small considering the original amount it was intended for, but Misty shrugged the thought aside; as long as it quieted hers, and more importantly the other pokemon's hunger pains she'd be content she supposed.

"It isn't much, but here." she offered the Slowpoke its portion, and it lethargically lifted open its jaws and let her plant the coconut into its mouth. Then equally slow it chomped down and chewed. Lance, meanwhile handed Squirtle his bit, who greedily grabbed at it, making the Champion smile, as it voiced its cheer in-between chomping down what little it had.

The Wingull shied away at first, wary and scared of the humans even as Squirtle's behavior indulged otherwise of their danger.

"Come on, it's okay. It's just coconut!" Misty cooed at them, holding out as far as she could reach with a large slowpoke on top of her, their four portions in both hands. They were content with glaring at the offered food, like it was a weapon she was waving in front of them, and then they cringed as a quieter round of hungry rumbles ran through their bellies. Then the bravest, or perhaps naive-est, Wingull, the smallest of the four actually, cautiously approached.

It pecked at the offered meat, to see if it would rear up and attack, or maybe to get a taste. Whatever the case, it became eventually content and snapped one of the four strips away and dove back into their tiny flock. Encouraged by their smallest's success, the other three dove in to snag their own coconut portions, and jumped back just as quickly once all four were served.

Misty shrugged inside, at least the approaching was an improvement, and they wouldn't go entirely hungry. She and Lance took theirs last.

"Ladies first," he insisted. Considering the situation, Misty rolled her eyes at him though he wouldn't be able to see, manners weren't really important right then. So, she ate at her small strip, first sucking whatever juice was still inside it then chewing as long as she could with small bites.

"So this one time..."

"Hmm?"

Misty shied down, "I don't know, I was just wondering if you were listening. I can feel you nodding off."

"Sorry..." he shifted beneath her slightly, and then his voice trailed to her ear, "I don't remember, did I tell you about the fiasco in Hoenn?"

"No, not really. You went to Hoenn?"

"Yep. I came across your friend Ash, and Brock there but not you."

"Oh..." she tried to stop the small twinge of pain from escaping her voice. It wasn't the fact that he had come across those two lugs miraculously, it was just...Hoenn was still a sore spot in her heart. The one time she had gotten to leave the gym and see her friends again, she met May and Max. She hid it rather well, but it had hurt seeing another girl traveling with them; partly because, at the time, the girl posed a threat to her crush on Ash, but mostly because it had felt like she was replaced, as if her little role in their trio was so easily filled up and substituted that it just hurt. Then, lo and behold, she loses-well, really let go, but it still felt like losing- Togetic after all those years of being its Mama.

"I was kind of surprised to not see you with them, to be honest."

"Yeah well, after Ash competed the Johto League, my sisters called me up and begged me to come back to being gym leader, and Ash wanted to keep going on his pokemon master journey...so we split. I went home, he went to Hoenn, Brock caught up with him, and off they go to have more merry adventures. He went through Sinnoh too, and got to go to Unova, that lucky jerk." He wasn't really a jerk, Misty knew that, but she was finally getting to vent, little by little, her feelings on the whole matter, and she just didn't bother holding back the acidity of her words.

"You missed being with them-with Ash." he observed.

"Of course! We spent years traveling on the road! YEARS!" she vexed, "We were best friends, they were the best friends I'd ever had, maybe even the only friends I'd had besides my pokemon!" they had traveled together for years, grown so close during that time, but then in literally ten minutes they were gone from her life and frankly, Misty couldn't hold in her anger at the whole situation any longer, not when this opportunity had finally come upon her, "And then they hop off to Hoenn, never calling, or writing, and the one time we see each other, Ash's trouble magnetism kicks in, reunion kicked to the curb while we save some kingdom from a tyrant, and I have to leave and go home not even an hour after we finish saving people." _And the one time he actually visits his friends in Kanto after returning home, it's not even to see us, but to let May go for the contests! Just drops by and goes "Hey Misty, sup, oh look a battle!"_ and maaaybe it didn't help that she had a-a _thing _for Ash, but that was it! A little girly crush, and then Brock just goes along with the whole "Hey Misty, long time no see, let's put off proper reunion stuff for saving the day and making sure Ash doesn't walk off a cliff cause he still does that," and- there's a tense pause, with Lance not knowing what to say, and Misty unsure where to go, especially as she barely manages to rear in control of the metaphorical broken dam in her mind before any _really_ secret stuff comes spilling out.

"...I'm sorry, that was—" she didn't know what words to call her little outburst, and when she did, it made her feel worse about making him a victim of a fit, "sorry, memories catching up with me."

"It's okay, Misty. I know what you mean."

"Yeah, but that was right in the middle of you beginning your story, and I was...well, venting...so what happened in Hoenn?" she questioned, switching subjects. Lance respected her desire to keep the rest of her turmoil to herself and elaborated.

"Well, this, and that. I was originally just there to catch the trail of a particularly nasty Rocket branch I'd been hunting, and of course to promote some more good relations between Kanto's League and Hoenn's. And..." he paused shaking his head a little this way, and little that way as he thought, "...okay, maybe a part of me was particularly eager to find and train for myself the region's own dragon types."

Misty giggled, a funny image of a tiny, "chibi" Lance jumping up and down on a boat at the prospect of catching Hoenn dragon-type pokemon. She herself understood, being host to a few of her own longings to discover for herself new water type pokemon. Heck, she was still stuck learning about the Hoenn and Sinnoh region water types, while everyone around her talked animatedly about Unovan water-type pokemon...and what was with that craze about "Mudkips" anyway? The only time she'd seen a Mudkip was Brock's, and she admitted that it was indeed a little cutie, but the craze about it she wasn't sure. She just knew every once in a while one of her sisters would use really bad spelling to say in a text message, "I heard you like mudkips".

He continued his story, keeping her hooked as he went on about his search for the Rockets in Hoenn, to meeting a few...interesting characters, and indeed getting his hands on a Vibrava and a Bagon. At her insistence, he promised to show her the scars from training them at a later, more appropriate date, and his story continued on til finally, he had wrapped it up with the defeat of Archie and Kyogre with Groudon, Ash, and Pikachu. Then, they settled into a rather nice, content silence in which Misty's head fell back to rest on his chest, his chin ended up resting on the top of her head.

To the sound of his heartbeat, a solid, steady beat, and the various other sounds from the pokemon around them, Misty was able to fall back asleep despite the roaring storm. Her last sight, before inevitably waking up, was the Wingull warming up finally to their presence and all four of them sleeping right beside them and the Squirtle, their beaks tucked deep to their breasts and wings enclosing their body heat within.

When they next time woke up, it was to the sound of hungry bellies again, and so sadly the last of the coconut was shared. Next, when she jolted awake, Misty noticed the missing presence of the Corphish, and that was it. Lance's arms were still tightly woven around her waist, pinning her down to hi-wait just a minute, when had his arms gotten there?! She didn't remember falling asleep with his arms or hands around her! Though they did fit quite cozily, and felt pleasant around her...

Anyway, the Slowpoke was splayed out on top of her now, its tail hanging off the cave end and its legs this way and that as it snoozed away, a humorous but gross snot bubble coming out of its nose. The Wingull were more neatly in their own curled up positions, heads tucked to their chest and wings tight to their bodies as they snoozed away. The Squirtle had fallen over at some point, but it's arms were still wrapped around her own, as if her arm were a teddy bear, as it snored. There was something distinctly missing in the scenario though, however adorable and cute it was...

The storm! Misty's eyes followed the hanging Slowpoke tail and lo and behold, the sun's rays had finally come out, the wind was a soft breeze barely getting inside their cave, thunder no longer rolled, and the waves' crests were completely out of her line of sight from inside the cave, meaning the waves were low again! The storm was over!

Misty turned her body as much as it could and she started poking and prodding at Lance's chest, ignoring how solid it really was under her finger, and beckoning for him to wake up.

"Lance! Lance! Wake up!"

He shifted, then growl-moaned making Misty pause then continue poking, and finally he mumbled, "I'm up, I'm up! Wha-" and then he yawned, really big and reeeally loudly, "-what is it?"

"Mornin, Lance." she grinned at him. She was pleasantly surprised by her own cheeriness immediately after waking up. She wasn't a morning kind of person, really, and she actually didn't know what time of the day it was.

He replied with a couple blank stares intercepted by blinking of his lashes, almost rueful looking at her bright cheer, then looking at the outside. The corners of his lips barely twitched upward, but she could tell he was just as pleased as her to find it void of stormy darkness and rain. He was just too groggy at the moment to fully care. How cute.

"Oh, good, it stopped."

"Yep!"

"'..." he lifted his right hand to wipe at his face, leaving only one of his now-loosened arms draped over her person, which a few seconds too late did he realize was there and hastily removed, "Uhm, right. Storm ended. We need to get back to shore and start making a new shelter."

"Yes, but uh," she stopped him, eying the pokemon around them meaningfully, "we should probably get these little guys up too."

"...oh...yeah, you're right." he agreed after a long moment. He was obviously not all the way awake, which made Misty laugh. At least she wasn't the only one that could be a sleepy bear.

"Squirtle, hey," she shook him by moving the arm it was hooked onto around, "hey, wake up little guy, Squirtle!"

'Squi-uir-uir-uir-tle! Squir-tle!" it moaned, waking at the sudden shaking thanks to its 'teddy bear'. He hoped to his feet, "Squirtle squir Squirtle!" he growled, angry at its sudden wake-up-call.

"He has quite the amount of energy for being asleep a minute ago," Lance noted, sounding a little jealous.

Misty pointed to the outside, and the Squirtle's anger washed away fast in replacement of a happiness that had it bouncing and jumping for joy-until it jumped too high and hit its head on the rock above them. The impact was loud enough to wake some of the Wingull, who cawed in alarm.

"Easy there, fellows, he's just excited that the storm's over," Lance said to them, though neither of them were really sure just how much the Pokemon could understand them. Apparently well enough, as the Wingull settled down, but stayed awake.

She stifled her laughter to save the Squirtle some dignity, then started prodding at the Slowpoke. "Hey! HEEEY! Wake up, Slowpoke!"

It didn't stir, the snot bubble in its nose still growing and shrinking in time with its sleepful breathing. The Squirtle hopped ontop of Lance's exposed leg and started poking at the Slowpoke too.

"Squirtle! Squirtle squirtle!" it yelled. The Slowpoke continued sleeping, blissfully oblivious to the outside forces of Misty and Squirtle who were trying to wake it.

"Slowpoke, wake up! Storm's over!" Misty said, bringing her voice up in volume.

Squirtle got on top of her and pushed the Slowpoke a bit off of Misty. Then it aimed it's back end at the Slowpoke's face and a loud smack announced the Squirtle's harsh, sudden Tail Whip to the face. It Tail Whip'd the Slowpoke's head twice before pausing, and giving it a good, final smack and hopping off of the human pair.

Slowpoke, for about ten seconds, was still soundly asleep though his snot bubble had popped long before. Then, its eyes popped open, and it released a long "Slooooooooooow!" that, really, Misty wasn't sure whether it was pained or just surprised.

"Squirt Squirtle!" said the blue turtle, and after a long, contemplative moment, the Slowpoke turned toward the outside and stared.

It just...stared.

And stared.

...and stared.

Okay, she had had enough of this! Misty pushed the pokemon off her legs, shuffled out of Lance's arm and had her legs dangling on the side of the cave. She could see out better now, and the water level had returned to the way it should have been, low and calm. She peered behind her just in time to see Lance's hand lifting from Squirtle's head, who once more leaped over Lance and started pushing the entranced, unresponsive Slowpoke.

"Keep going," he told her, "I'm coming." Misty nodded, letting her feet touch the first step-like rock and then stepping down until her shoes crunched into the wet sand. Lance followed behind her, and promptly moved her out of the way when Squirtle tackled the Slowpoke out of the cave. It fell down, smacking its body or head into the rock steps and then slapping into the sand on its back.

After a minute, it moaned and wiggled its feet in the air, but sadly it was unable to flip itself over, "Slooooooooooowwwwwpooooooooo oooooooke."

Squirtle snorted with a quick "Squir." at Slowpoke, partly amused but partly not at the same time. It's attitude sort of reminded Misty of Ash's Squirtle, before they separated and Squirtle joined Officer Jenny. Then it ninja'ed its way nimbly down the rock steps. The Wingull followed it in a train, then with joyous cries all four spread their wings, basking in the sun for a minute then taking off. A few feathers were the only souvenirs they left behind as they took off into the sky like rockets.

Squirtle helped the wriggling Slowpoke flip over and get back onto its feet, where it yawned, waited a few seconds then looked at Misty and Lance, but mostly Misty, and crowed cheerily, "Sllloooooooooowwwwwpoooooooo okkkkeee sloooooooooooooooooooooooooo oowwwwwwww." Leisurely the pink pokemon turned around and headed in the particular direction toward the rock shelves, presumably to fish for food. Squirtle waved them bye, then headed in a similar direction as the Slowpoke, leaving Misty and Lance alone.

For a few very long minutes, Misty was content with simply spreading her arms and, copying the Wingull, bask in the bright, warm sunlight for as long as she fancied. It was hot, but after so long of being surrounded by the freezing cold of the tropical storm, she was more than pleased to take whatever the sun had to offer, if only for a minute or two. And it felt wonderful, as she stretched her body this way and that to just let the sun's rays burn and warm skin.

Finally she turned to Lance and he nodded stiffly when she told him they could go back to shore. They grabbed their things and crossed the rock shelves. Lance helped Misty across because of her leg, and once they climbed over the shelves they were back on the beach of their shelter. Misty surveyed the beach-side as well as the edge of the forest. A few of the palm trees had been uprooted, and one looked charred from being struck by lightning. A few were just plain broken, torn right at the base of their trunk. Debris of trees, plants, rock, and even a bit of coral was washed all across some of the sand, along with plenty of driftwood.

"Good news, Misty." Lance spoke while her back was turned. When she faced him, he was holding up the a-frame shelter they had been using prior to the storm above him, ignoring the sand that fell from its edges onto him. "We didn't lose anything to the winds, at least it doesn't appear that way."

"Really?" she voiced her surprise. Surely the storm would have taken something?

"Well, the clothes are soaked and sandy, so I wouldn't want to mess around with them until we've taken them to the stream for a quick wash, and that little journal's soaked so it's a nix for use, but anything else looks fine." He admitted. He then flipped the collapsed shelter top that had been protecting the objects beneath over and let it plop onto the sand.

"I don't suppose you know how to set up nature-y shelters from camping with your friends, do you?" he asked her, glancing around at all the debris and driftwood scattered on the beach.

"No, we had sleeping bags. I used to complain about them, but right now I'd kill for some." Misty said with a frown.

"That makes two of us. Hmm..."

"What are you thinking?"

He was considerate for a while, still sweeping across the debris all over the sand, then switching to gaze at the forest parallel to them.

"The only tool we've got to work with is a dull dagger, and whatever rocks we can get in the shallows after that storm." he noted aloud, "I don't know whether we should just set up a bigger version of what we had previously, or use some of these palm trees as a support... or make the shelter closer into the woods where there's bound to be more to work with."

"Well, if we're going with woods, then we should definitely make some sort of S-O-S sign on the beach, doncha think?" Misty said.

He snapped his fingers, "Oh yeah! No, we should make that regardless of where we make the shelter."

"How about we stick with what you did before, since we know how to do that, and make whatever changes we'll need then?" she suggested, "Obviously we're getting it a bit bigger to fit both of us and we are just meaning to set up and recover from the storm. Set up this new shelter, and we'll be able to gather things up so we can get into making bigger things later, don't you think so?"

"Hmm...you know what, that's a good idea! Let's collect all the debris and driftwood from the sand first."

Misty shook her head, "Better idea; _you _collect the driftwood and stuff," Misty emphasized with a timely poke of her finger at his chest," and _I'll _get started on that S.O.S."

"Wait, Misty-" he tried to stop her, "Are you sure you're up to it? With your le-"

"Laaaance!" she half-heartedly groaned. "Your concern is sweet, but just stop. It's not like I broke my leg and am completely disabled! It hurts, yeah, but I'm a big girl. I can tough it out, I promise."

She wasn't sure whether it would be okay or not to laugh at the surprise on his face at her sudden rebuke of his concern. It wasn't that it offended her, but after the past few days and nights of hearing and dealing with him treat her like she were made of glass, Misty was honestly tired of it. They were on the island together, and that was it. He was all she had, and she all he had. If they were going to effectively stay alive it would take teamwork from both of them, and Misty was not going to let the sharp pains in her calf stop her from keeping the both of them alive. Whether he liked it or not, she was going to work to make that S.O.S., then help him set up that shelter, and go on to see what they could successfully catch in the shallows with what little they had.

And whatever the next day would have in store for them, Misty was going to push even harder to do her part. The storm had passed, and the idle wasting of time wasn't a luxury anymore-not that it had been at any point in the first place.

First, she grabbed a stick from the edge of the woods and used it to trace out the beginnings of the S.O.S. a few times. She had to adjust twice because the drafts were too close to the tide but finally she settled a good five feet from the darkened line of wet sand that visually separated the dry white beach sand from the ocean water. Then she went over it, forcing the stick deeper into the sand.

A girly voice inside of her squealed in disgust at the gritty, intrusive sand forced in between her nails once she started really digging into the sand, but it was easily pushed aside as Misty concentrated. With her bare hands she shoved out armful after armful of sand, losing track of time as she concentrated on carving into the sand. She stopped only to lift up from the ground and look at it every couple of minutes, wondering if it was deep and wide enough or if she should go bigger. Then Misty'd dive back in to continue.

Finally she had come upon the last inch of the curve in the final "S" and took a few minutes to step back and look at her work. Each letter had ended up being a several feet longer than her own height, which she supposed was good enough. The curvacious trenches weren't any deeper than maybe eight inches deep, but she supposed it would do considering the width of each letter to the S.O.S. was roughly the length of her forearm.

Waiting for the sharp lightning bolt of pain to stop racing back and forth from her calf to her brain, Misty checked on Lance's own progress. He had indeed gathered up most of the driftwood and other such debris and collected it into various piles. It appeared he was in the middle of stacking up a basic frame to their shelter, with was at the moment using, as supports, two palm trees that had split at roughly the same point because one had been struck by lightning, and fell on top of the other and broke it in conjunction to whatever the storm had done to it. The palm trees themselves were wider apart than Lance's arm span from finger to finger by just a few inches. He had a few sticks perched on top of the trunks and fitted into the splits of the wood. Where the edge of the forest faced, he was taking some of the larger pieces of driftwood and debri and propping it against the palm tree trunks in between the fallen tops and making a very barren, basic wall.

"So it's just going to have the back facing the woods and an open front?" she questioned when she neared him.

"No, I'm thinking it's going to have a sort of small roof, and slightly angled sides. At the front we can dig out a place for a fire once we can get one going. And," he paused to move aside and slightly lift up the mostly flattened collection or stuck sticks, leaves, and sand that had once been the measly shelter they had depended on prior to the storm, then he let it fall back to the sand "we can use this at night to pull over the front like a slide door."

"What if we just pulled the fallen tree part," she kicked the fallen hunk of wood to see how strongly it still clung to the main trunk, "to the front and used those as supports or whatever for those side walls you want?"

"That's a good idea!" Lance brightened, but Misty failed to notice the proud, impressed rise in his chest as he spoke, "Plus it can double as support for the roof! Let's move those first, then." He jumped away from the back wall he was setting up previously and approached the fallen tree top that was on top. His eagerness amused Misty, though she understood it well herself.

He grabbed at the end, and waited for her to grab the middle. This time, she noticed how he watched her movement carefully as she stepped over, looking for any signs that meant her wounded leg might prevent her from helping with the lifting. In reaction Misty forced her body from reacting to the small, acute shocks of pain that ached in her leg and wrapped her arms around the middle of the fallen tree top and nodded for him. On his count of three, they hefted up the broken palm tree top and steadily, but perhaps too slowly for Misty's tastes, managed to shift the fallen tree top to the designated front of what was going to be their little haven, which would coincidentally face the ocean.

Once they pulled it all the way to the front and in the intended spot, the two redheads eased the fallen tree top down to the sand with a heavy but sand-softened thump. The second took just as long, but as they finally moved the tree top to a proper spot, something funny reached Misty's ears and she nearly dropped the trunk.

"Sorry, sorry!" she said, fumbling to get her grip back on the tree, while Lance strained to hold up the full brunt of the wood's weight that had suddenly dropped onto him.

"What in the world did you do, go brain dead or something?" he snapped, his angry tone only letting up as the weight equalized with Misty regaining her grip. Promptly the tree was dropped into its place, almost unceremoniously.

"No!" she snapped back, "My brain's working just fine thank you! I just..."

"What?"

"I... thought I heard something. Didn't you?"

The red eyebrow that rose upward easily answered enough for him in his expression, "No."

Misty frowned, "I swear though... just now, it was high-pitched and quick, and faint..."

Lance appeared concerned as he crossed his arms and scrutinized her for a moment, "...I think we should take a break if you're hearing things."

Misty scowled at him, "I'm not crazy! I really did hear something!"

His mouth opened just at the same time that whatever sound she had heard once more resounded into the air. This time, it was much louder, and clearer. Lance heard it this time, she could have been able to tell by the surprise in his eyes. However, she was much too caught up in the one single realization that completely shut down her normal thought process.

It was the shrill cry of a very particularly familiar, and very distressed pokemon species.

She didn't even think twice and suddenly Misty was tearing through the forest, screaming the name of the only thing that mattered to her right then, "AZURILL!"

It was stupid, some part of her tried to vainly speak up, she didn't know where she was going! And what in the world could the chances be of it being an Azurill, much less _her_ Azurill? They were way too small! She shouldn't be doing this! But everything else in Misty's being, especially that maternal instinct she had developed from the moment Togepi hatched before her eyes, and that moment Tracey handed her Azurill's egg, was screeching the exact opposite. Especially as another burst of the pokemon cry struck the air, louder and clearer yet.

She stumbled upon the stream she and Lance had been receiving their water, and paused to catch her breath and to survey the area. There was nothing but grass, trees, shrubbery, and the stream but her beating heart said she was close.

"AZURIIIIILL!" she called, and waited for a heartbeat-two beats-three-

THERE! Farther down the stream to her left! Behind her crunched the footsteps of an utterly confused Lance, desperately trying to keep up but Misty was heedless. She took off again, ignoring the searing burn in her leg and followed the stream around its small bend and further on until finally the growing stream joined into an obstacle she stood little chance of crossing.

A huge, roaring river. The water was white with foam and rage as it ran down the rocks and trees, so it looked impossible to tell its depth. The river had to be twice her own height though, and far, far, so very far away to her left the river traveled until it fell down a cliff into a cascading waterfall. The only way she could see across it was a large fallen tree bridging the opposite side of the riverbank farther down the river.

"MISTY!" she finally recognized Lance's voice in her haze of anxiety, and she knew he was _not _going to be happy at all, but at that moment she couldn't find herself caring.

"AZURILL!" she called out, while Lance finally caught up to her and stood beside her.

"What in the name of Arceus is wrong with you?!" he shouted, "Just dashing like a mad woman through the forest; you could have been hurt! What could possibly possess you to do that?"

"That cry I heard-you heard it too- it's Azurill's I know it!" she explained shortly and inhaled to release another loud call.

She was beaten to it, however, by the reply of a shrill, terrified squeal right above their heads accompanied with two other various cries, and Misty and Lance both shot their eyes skyward to search the source. There on a lonesome branch was a bright blue furred little Azurill, with a small, orange furred Growlithe desperately clinging to the thin branch. A coiled Ekans was spitting menacingly at them at the thickest part of the branch, closer to the tree.

"How in the world did they get up there?" Lance wondered. That was a good point; how that Growlithe managed to climb that branch was a complete mystery to her, but it wasn't the focus of her attention, needless to say.

"Azurill!" Misty gasped.

The Pokemon in question noticed Misty below them, and the absolute happiness that replaced its fear seemed to signify that it recognized Misty.

"Azurii! Azurii!" it cried happily, bouncing on the branch carelessly. It stopped only when the Ekans before the two pokemon on the limb hissed and caught its attention again. Then Azurill resumed its previous expression of terror.

"Azurill, Water Gun!" Misty commanded, right as the Ekans thrust its head forward with its poisonous fanged jaws wide open. With a surprised jump at her command, Azurill spat a thick stream of water from its tiny mouth that struck the Ekans's head. The sudden jet-stream was enough to knock the Ekans backward and right off the branch into the forestry. Misty released a relieved breath, Azurill was safe now.

"Good job Azurill," she smiled. Now they just had to think of a way to get Azurill and the Growlithe down.

"That went rather well." Lance said. Misty turned briefly to see relief in his face; so he was worried too! "We can cross the river by that tree down there, if we're careful, and we can get your Azurill." he pointed out and Misty nodded.

"Azu! Azurill! Azu!" the little blue pokemon cheered, resuming a joyful bounce. The Growlithe, however, cried out for the baby pokemon to stop shaking the branch as it clung tighter to the flimsy limb. The poor thing looked sick and petrified from the height it was above the ground. Not for long, Misty told herself.

Then the branch snapped clean in half, and Azurill and the Growlithe fell to the raging depths below.

* * *

Did I? Did I really? Yes I just Cliffhanger'd you guys. MERRY CHRISTMAS, HAPPY HOLIDAYS, and HAPPY NEW YEAR XD

BTW's: for the curious, the storm was pretty much two entire days and then passed them by the third morning. I decided to be nice.

HEEEEYYYYY! Big shout out guys, this super coolio reader Anime-Guardian Angel wrote a MistyxLance oneshot called Love Finder, so go support your love or liking of the MistyLance pairing and read it! C:

If you like this, review. Fave's are nice... but reviews are better. Short reviews, long reviews, rambling reviews, inquisitive reviews, big fat llama reviews, any reviews!

If no like, review and tell me so.

If not, I'll just continue anyway. Whenever I get around to it. C:

-KO13


	13. THE REAL CHAPTER 13 I PROMISE

Technically, where I'm at, it's a little past midnight so on my side of the world, it's tomorrow (technically) so here you go, the actual,real, legit update! And can I just say, WOW, this took longer than I thought it would. College work sure is tough this semester, that and between Halo4, Assassin's Creed 3, spontaneous ship jumping, (and a quick April Fools joke XD) and lack of muse I guess has kept me away from writing. I deeply apologize for the long wait. But finally I've come back!

Interesting to note, I've found one (ONE) up to date list of pokemon ships. It took forever to find, but as far as listed ships go, it is the only one that still lists Misty and Lance as a ship, and under Rage.

I am now one list closer to eradicating the Rage name and replacing it with the Kingdra name. Mwuhahahaha!

On a side not, I still haven't decided on Lance's eyes. I've read good fics and seen good artwork of him with all different colors and I just don't know what to pick and go with. Yellow? Blue? Brown? Green? Red? Scratch red, we've got enough red going around as is. Anyway, I'm currently partial to yellow and blue. Also, on Misty's Mystery Date (check my profile, yo) I had his eyes be yellow. Thoughts? Comments?

Anyway...

To the following:

Anime-Guradian Angel: BRING IT ON. Level 90 White 2-cross-Soulsilver Team.

Pokefan29: Too bad for you, because I love that pokerap song XD

Sesshoumaru-sama's Lover: BWAHAHAHA because I am EEEVILLLLLLLL mwuhahahahaa! But hey, in repetance you're also getting this real chapter, which is about 800 words+ the usual word count in the chapters so hooray for you!

New Readers: Summerclaw, Sandgem, Master Bleach, Guardian of Omens Hina, Adeleine95, Pichicha123, varee, amac1688, AkatsukiMember Jinx, ChloboShoka

Welcome aboard C:

Someone asked that, since Mist's Azurill has appeared, if that meant that the rest of either person's pokemon are also on the island and just haven't been found. I decided to go ahead and address this for any who may be confused as well; No. Please refer to the early chapters (I do believe them to be 2-4) for the very quick explanations I gave as to why.

I've also noticed that nobody's given particularly concerned reactions to last chapter's cliffhanger. I don't know whether it's my fault for not emphasizing the fact that Azurill and Growlithe fell into a RAGING RIVER OF DEATH enough or that it's just being ignored. So just FYI: Azurill and Growlithe have not fallen into a kiddy pool. This is not the same weak stream Misty and Lance initially discovered. It's a rapid river; a RAGING WATER ROLLERCOASTER OF DOOM. It is deep, it has rocks, and none of it is gentle. They have fallen in, and this is not going to be pleasant for anyone.

Also, kudos to sesshoumaru-sama's lover for noticing a little something I had planted without clarification in Chapter 11. Go back and look if you're curious, or just pm her or me for details. I'm keeping it a mystery just fyi.

I'm going to go ahead and apologize for any OOCness that you think or know you see. It happens.

Just a quick FYI.

It's not fluff, but it's getting a bit personal all up in here.

* * *

A splash announced their falling impact in the water, and a second announced Misty's own reckless jump as she dove into the water faster than a diving Dewgong. Lance was yelling behind her, but her mind had harshly shoved his voice aside to focus in on the rescue of her precious baby pokemon Azurill, and its evidently befriended companion Growlithe. The water was surprisingly cold despite the heat of the tropical sun, and its temperature shocked her skin into a quick state of numbness as her arms dug through the white water trying to swim after the two pokemon. Misty swam, relentless after them, driven onward by their helpless cries that pierced her hearing.

In the back of her mind, she could vaguely remember her own memories of having to supervise Azurill in the Cerulean gym's pools. Azurill was excitable and quick at learning new things when it liked them, but its typing was normal, and wouldn't change into a water type until it evolved into a Marill. Worse so, it was still a baby, and while it could easily float in the still waters of a kiddie pool, swimming and maneuvering the powerful currents of a furious river safely was a very different ball game.

Worse for the situation was the puppy pokemon. Growlithe may not have a flame on its tail to worry about shielding like a charmander, but the inner flames driving its body were just as vulnerable to the chill of the water in addition to drowning. Most likely, the puppy's experience with water was with puddles reaching its knee joints, and so the very deep, very forceful water of the river was way out of its league. The Azurill, that Misty was sure 100% to be hers, took precedence in her mind, but there was no way she could let the poor puppy suffer either!

Barely, Misty's right arm hooked around Azurill and the water mouse clung to her neck as best as it could. Misty allowed her body to move as best and fluidly with the current as she could. The redheaded gymleader struggled to avoid the treacherous rocks peeking above and below the current when finally within her reach she also snatched up the Growlithe and brought the dog close to her chest. Finding itself caught by a human, the growlithe struggled with a renewed fearful vigor in her arms and she nearly lost him. With her left arm she tried to fight the current and move herself closer to the shore but the current raged stronger now that she tried to swim against it.

The river was taking her and the two pokemon along for a bumpy, painful ride now that they were all together. Large slabs of rock jutted through the river and into sight, and Misty's body slammed painfully and helplessly into those and the slightly smaller rocks that were hidden beneath the raging waves. She cried out, twice, and nearly risked drowning and losing her precious cargo when finally she caught sight of a particularly big rock in her path. Misty braced herself and once her body smacked into the rock her one free arm grabbed onto the small indention at its top and kept a grip on it.

For a heart-wrenching moment the current pulled at her and her fingers slipped from the top of the rock. She thought for a split, terrifying second that her grip was lost and they would once more be painful slaves to the river's whims, but Misty forced the muscles in her arm to help her drag her body and her cargo closser onto it. It worked, to her relief. A blur of red and navy appeared in the corner of her eye, and finally Misty allowed herself to be aware of Lance. With their temporary stillness, the Growlithe once more exchanged fear of drowning for fear of the human and violently struggled in her grip.

"Hey, no stop! It's okay, I've got you, I'm not going to hurt you! Azurill tell him!" Misty shouted over the roar of the water, only hindered in her words when she choked on water that had chosen timely to spray up into her face.

"Azu azuri!" her blue mouse weakly cheeped, trying to quell the fire puppy's fear. The growlithe stopped struggling, but its eyes still quivered with terror.

"Misty!" came Lance's voice above her. Misty peeked above the raging white water and rock to see the dragon tamer perched atop the large trunk of a previously fallen or uprooted tree that bridged over the river. His hand reached for her, but she was too low and he was too high for their hands to touch.

"I can't reach!"

"Hold on," he replied, as if she had any other choice, and Lance got down further on the fallen log until his body was fully pressed to it. His legs cross-locked themselves over on the branches sticking out from the trunk and his left arm gripped a smaller one. His right reached for her once more, and the distance between their hands was much smaller. Misty could only barely push her body and her cargo up on the rock and throw her hand out briefly to try to catch his open palm. Their fingertips barely brushed, and the tantalizing touch of being so very close and yet so very far from each other sent shockwaves of terror through her heart.

The words, 'I can't reach any farther' were visible amongst the fear and desperation she could see in Lance's eyes, though not once would the words ever escape from inside him. She fell back on the rock at their failed attempt, feeling her strength being pulled from every second in the rapids regardless of the anchoring of the rock. Her arms felt icy and numb, her legs stung and her muscles were on fire. In her ears above the angry roar of water however, she could make out the terrified mews and whimpers of her Azurill and the Growlithe pup. Summoning anything and everything she could, Misty clambered her body up the rock as high as she could, finding something solid for her foot to step to, and then pushed off and reached for Lance.

Their hands clasped together immediately into a form-fitting lock and while the strain pulled at her arm neither trainer ever let go of the other. Lance painstakingly pulled her up, the ascent out of water to tree a slow and aching trip but as soon as they were close Azurill wriggled out of her grasp and leapt to the solid surface of the tree. Some of the strain of their weight was lifted and just a little more easily was the Dragon Tamer able to bring Misty up. Finally, Misty and the Growlithe were aboard the tree, and safety was theirs.

Misty nearly collapsed atop the trunk, huffing. Her arm fell away from being around the fire puppy, but the fire pokemon didn't move from the natural warmth her body provided for a long time. The poor thing shivered madly atop her body and a girly voice inside her complained of smelling like wet dog later but truthfully Misty was glad the puppy seemed okay otherwise. Her hand lifted weakly to scratch the dog pokemon behind the ears before falling back. Next to her Lance breathed heavy, less for wear than her but obviously winded from straining to save her rescue swim from failing.

"Misty," he began, in a tired, troubled tone, "don't ever do that to me again."

Azurill then took the moment to hop to its feet and nuzzle Misty's face while mewing, "Azuri!" and thoughts of what could trouble him so much gave way to the sheer relief and joy that came with the blue mouse. Misty gave back her precious baby an overwhelmed but jovial smile and caressed the blue fur of its head. Unbeknownst to Misty, Lance watched the exchange with a tired, but relieved smile of his own on his face.

The growlithe's shivering began to die down as its furry body soaked up as much of Misty's warmth as its cold and drenched body needed. Gradually the fur grew warm again, and it jumped to its paws and scrambled off of Misty. The process earned him a few "oomph!"s and "ow!"s but he successfully got his paws on the tree instead of Misty and proceeded to back away from them slowly, wary and fear of the two humans revived.

Azurill let loose a few concerned chirps as the Growlithe kept backing up. Misty's Azurill appeared confused by growlithe's fear, the trainer-owned pokemon unable to understand the fear the growlithe held for the two humans that it had never seen before. Whatever friendship the two had sparked between each other during their adventures through the jungle, it could do nothing to break the frightened puppy from its spell, even as the blue mouse began to follow after the fire puppy.

"Azurill," Misty began, getting the baby mouse's attention, "let him go."

"Azu!" it mewed in reply, sad and hurt by the growlithe's fear and therefor rejection of Azurill.

"He's scared of me and Lance, Azurill. Let him go, okay?"

"Azu…" Azurill deflated, turning to the growlithe just in time to see the puppy stumble over its cold feet and run off the tree and into the forest brush. Misty leaned up off the tree and steadily got to her feet. As she did so, however, the both of them froze as an ominous crackling and creaking came beneath their feet. There was time for Misty to turn to Lance and for them to share the same confused look when the wood beneath them collapsed and as Misty screamed his name, Lance plus the other half of the large tree trunk plunged into the river.

Missing it's other half, the part of the tree she herself was on careened dangerously into the river, and Misty pushed off it and once more dove into her element. Misty moved her body along with the current once more, doing all she could to avoid smacking into the rocks once more. Her arms pushed her through the current after her partner. Ahead of her, Lance struggled in the water that was, contrary for Misty, _not_ his element of expertise. The initial shock of suddenly being plunged into the water had nearly cost him, water rushing into his mouth faster than he could anticipate until the shock had been shoved aside for a desperate fight to stay alive. He was managing to stay above the surface, but just a he could spit out and choke out the water in his throat the raging rapids shoved more water at him.

The river took a large dip downward and Lance fell underneath the surface. Misty followed, steadily catching up and she inhaled and went under the current as it dipped. When she came back up, she caught sight of Lance. Her heart was captured by ice when she realized, swimming after him and finally her hands grasped the fabric of his shirt, that he was no longer struggling, and his eyes were closed.

"Lance! LANCE!" She screamed his name over the roar of the river, but he didn't so much as flinch at the noise, "No no no, Lance! Please, wake up!" Nothing.

She spat out water that splashed into her face, and looped one of her arms around Lance's middle to keep the water from dragging his unconscious body below. As they flowed down the river rapids Misty desperately searched for something-_anything_- that could bring them out of the river. Her one unoccupied hand snatched out for something to grab onto, and luckily her fingers once again locked onto a particularly big but flat rock. Misty swung them around until they were at the front of the flat slab. With some semblance of an anchoring spot, Misty's eyes madly searched ahead of the river. The rock they had latched onto was too far from either edge of the river, and her feet still weren't close to touching bottom. Ahead the rapids appeared to calm after a few more patches of rocks and dips, but she couldn't see any farther down the river. It appeared to be cut off into the horizon, and around the edges of the riverbed the trees cleared off. Peaks of trees could barely be seen in the distance.

A waterfall, Misty realized. Her knuckles turned white as she clenched the top of the rock as if it would keep her latched onto it better, as did her arm tighten around Lance. It didn't matter if she could know just haw far the drop was; if they fell over it, it was all over. Done. Dead.

"Azurii! Azurii!" from afar to her right, Misty's Azurill jumped up and down, safely on the side of the river away from the water. It had followed the two humans as best as it could, and had caught up finally when Misty had gripped onto another rock. Before Misty could remotely speak, the blue baby mouse ran farther down the river, and jumped up and down next to a collection of rocks that were stuck on a small sliver of sand connecting straight, no hassle visible, to the rest of the island ground. If she could maneuver herself and Lance over to the patch of sand, she could drag them both to ground. Ahead of her, some of the rocks, if she could play the current right, she could hop to each one in the water, steadily moving to her right until she could reach the rocks on the sand bed.

But if she missed even one...

Her arm tightened just a bit around Lance, and Misty braced the tips of her shoes against the rock she was attached to. She let go, pushed off hard as she could, and used her one free arm to lunge through the freezing water. Her hand grasped the side of the first, and her hold kept strong. Misty swung around it, braced her feet on that rock, and pushed off through the current for the next. Her hand slipped, but her hold kept. She swung around it too, pushed off, snatched onto the next, swung around, and repeat. It was the last one, just one more push off and if she caught the rock it would take only minimum effort to clamber through the rock barrier and get to the sand. Misty inhaled, exhaled all within a second, and pushed off.

Her fingers brushed against the rock and missed.

But her hand caught a different, smaller rock. Misty pulled close to it, holding on like it were her lifeline. Then, careful to keep Lance above the remaining water, Misty climbed over and a rush of relief swept her being when her hands sifted through sand, real sand. She had never been so relieved to touch the gritty minerals that scratched at her flesh as she dragged herself and the dragon tamer onto the sand. As soon as they both were free from the water, however, Misty flipped Lance onto his back and leaned over him.

He still hadn't awoken.

"Lance, no, please, wake up! Come on!" clueless on what to do, Misty's hands slapped at his face, his chest, panic overtaking her senses. "Please, you can't-you can't do this to me!"

No reaction.

Planting her hands on top of the other and onto the middle of his chest, Misty pushed hard against his body, up, down, up down, fast and hard as she could. She nearly lost count but her own internal clock kicked in. At thirty, she stopped and leaned in to feel and listen for breathing. Not a wisp of air left or entered, and panic and terror bundled up into her heart.

There was little else to do besides continue to do compressions but... well, there was mouth-to-mouth but could she really? Life saving or not could she...? For exactly half a second Misty's eyes scrutinized Lance's face, not a single sign of movement evident. No matter how calm or serene his face looked, the lack life scared her beyond her own comprehension. She was terrified. She was in pain. Her heart tore at each moment that passed the longer he wasn't moving.

She dipped his head back, pulled his chin to open his mouth, his airways and his lips, and leaned in.

-o00o-

There was darkness. First pain, then an encompassing darkness that went on infinitely. Everything inside him, too, was as blank and empty as the darkness around him. He didn't feel, didn't think, breathe or even feel his heart beat. He was empty, he was part of the darkness, he concluded.

Then, the darkness shivered, and something changed in the realm of the changeless. A wind filled his lungs, warm and inviting. And within his ear were suddenly sounds, echoes of constantly reverberated words from a voice that was so close but so far, and so familiar but never could he name. It grew louder, louder from a whisper to a scream. The wind in his lungs left, and with their departure suddenly his lungs were heavy- no, not heavy. He couldn't breathe- breathe! He could breathe, but he was drowning!

His lungs were beginning to burn, ears drowned in the calling of a voice he was so close to naming. The darkness was warping, lightening and changing to colors that were at first blurry. Edges began to sharpen, all sorts of shapes in his vision that couldn't concentrate on all at once. His lungs were drowning in whatever it was that kept air from entering, the voice was evening out to his senses and then suddenly, all at once, reality came crashing back down. He was aware of so many sensations at once, the ground under his back, the shivering cold his body felt from water, the liquid rolling around in his lungs with a harsh and airless tyranny, and the warm body atop him, and Misty crying out to him. He was all too suddenly aware of everything in his senses-touch, sight, hearing, smell, taste, and in one burst his lungs finally had had enough of the intrusion of water.

He choked and spat out some, then rolled over to get gravity's assistance. His arms, exhausted, nearly collapsed on him but Misty was by his side once more, her hands holding him up while his body forcefully expelled the water in his lungs. He spat, choked, and when at last he could take the lack of oxygen no more, Lance inhaled, deep, and fast to get as much fresh air into his lungs as possible.

It was several minutes until finally his breathing was at a somewhat steady pace that Lance fell back over onto his back, and every little detail that he could remember prior to becoming unconscious came crashing down.

He had nearly died. No, he had probably really been dead.

And Misty...

Lance lifted up off his back and propped himself up on his arms and gave Misty the most awestruck, most incredulous looks.

"You... saved me?"

Her eyes widened, surprised that either that he was equally surprised at her, or that he was even talking at all. Her hand reached and laid for a moment on his arm. Her eyes were misted over and distant, like she couldn't possibly believe that what was happening was real.

Concerned, Lance leaned to catch her a little below eye level, and their eyes meet in a clash of color as Misty zoned back in on him.

"Misty?"

In the next instant, her arms were around him, face buried into his neck. Instinctively, his arms wrapped around her, tentively first, but she was so warm, and the river had almost... it had almost taken her away from him, and evidently taken him away from her. Lance hugged her just a little tighter, shivering.

"Don't you ever do that to me again!" He nodded numbly, trying hard to ignore the vicious pang of guilt that welled up at the realization that she was crying.

Lance pressed her against him as much as he could and held onto her, the both of them tightening their hold around each other as if that alone could keep them anchored to each other. As if having each other could, alone, keep the other safe and alive.

* * *

If you like this, review. Fave's are nice... but reviews are better. Short reviews, long reviews, rambling reviews, inquisitive reviews, big fat llama reviews, any reviews!

If no like, review and tell me so.

If not, I'll just continue anyway. Whenever I get around to it. C:

-KO13


	14. Chapter 14

It's 9:30 in my part of the world, I'm tired of holding onto this one, and it's only been a day since I last posted! I finished this chapter last night and frankly, I'm already tired of holding onto it, so HERE. TAKE IT.

Also, evidently there's BlackWhite anime special episode where Charizard comes back(I think? don't take my word for it), and we get a quick flashback through the Kanto journeys. It hasn't been released for english dub yet. Kinda curious to watch it once it gets released. Only problem is, I can't stand Iris's voice. Her voice grates my nerves DX

UGGGHHHH LANCE JUST FREAKING SHOW UP IN THE ANIME AGAIN. Maybe if I'm lucky they'll revamp him in the current BlackWhite style for at least a cameo flashback and THEN we'll really see what color those eyes are! I've always thought they were an amber gold color, though.

To the following:

Guest(?): Thank you for the reviews. By the way, OOC is a common acronym for fanfiction writers or fanart drawers meaning Out Of Character. It's pretty self-explanatory, but Out Of Character (OOC) is when a character is portrayed or made to do things that contradict what they were originally and officially portrayed as. For instance (and this is an extreme case of an example) if I were to have Misty cuddle a bug pokemon. That's OOC because as everyone knows by watching the anime, Misty hates bugs; she would never cuddle something she hates. Most of the time, OOCness is regarded as a big no-no but sometimes people warp the characters to make them fit whatever purpose their fic or fanart needs them to fit. Sometimes you can get away with it, sometimes you can't. Frankly, I couldn't tell you if Lance was OOC or not because he's been featured in four episodes (five if you count a voiceless cameo) so any particular quirks, history, and extra juicy tidbits of him were never well-established, and I've had to make up my own both to establish his character (in my mind) and to help fit in with his role in the fic. Misty on the other hand, has a very fully established character because we've had her for seasons at a time, we've had episodes centering around her, so we know (or at least SHOULD know) how she really is versus how we portray her. Therefor, OOCness on Misty's part is always going to be a fault on my part, either because I'm having to change her to fit the role I've got for her or because I'm failing to accurately portray her in the fic as she is, as close as I can.

Guest#2 (alias of Lance Wyvern): Jeez, you read fast! Are you sure YOU're not the psychic pokemon here? Sending me all the vibes on where the story goes? Lol, even though you must very well know how this goes, Lance, I think it'll be more entertaining for us all to simply read it to the end. Then we'll be able to decide whether I'm really as psychic as you think I am. XD I'm not, by the way. Several quizes I've taken tell me I'm an Electric or Fighting type, while a type horoscope based on my birthday says I'm an Ice Rock type, so no psychic in me! Lol though one quiz did say I was Ghost... O_o

New Readers: Guest (goes by The Red Lance alias) and other Guest (alias is Lance Wyvern)

Welcome aboard C:

I'm going to go ahead and apologize for any OOCness that you think or know you see. It happens.

I don't know how, but somewhere along the way of writing them, Agatha and Janine decided they should hate the other. Either way, I am very amused by angry old lady Agatha bickering with young daddy's girl Janine XD Also it looks like I've unintentionally grown fond of the Fuschia ninja family because this is, like, twice Koga and Janine have nabbed the spotlight at the end of the non-mistylance extra. Darn those ninjas, they're even ninja-ing my brain DX

* * *

Within the large fortress-esque headquarters of the Indigo conference, if you had the right card-key passes and a certain amount of directional luck, you might stumble across the large, spacious rooms where the Elite Four and their champion inhabited during accessible hours of the day for challengers. For a few of them, it was naught more than a place away from home, a temporary hotel room until the League would give them a weekend off for full on, day by day recuperation. For others, there was little else to go but their personal quarters. The personal spaces of the Elite Four were hosted on three floors, one for relaxation and rest, one for training, and the last floor as a stand-by zone for challengers. The first, the floor for resting, was comprised of five bathrooms, one laundry room, one small walk-in kitchen, a spacious "living" room with several pieces of standard League-issued furniture, and five bedrooms. It was up to each trainer on how to arrange their room, or even whether to use it as such or not.

Now, however, was not the time for relaxation and resting, contrary to the time and place. The Elite Four plus two other persons, occupied the living room in various measures of tension. Koga the Ninja master was comfortably leaned against the walls close to a corner, but still close enough to be in range of the various conversations. Next to him stood his daughter Janine, wearing similar ninja garb as her father, though the scarf wrapped around her neck and currently hiding the lower half of her face was closer to violet in color rather than her father's red. She moved only for breathing, and was standing straight and tall and fearsome.

Closeby to the ninja family was Bruno's massive and muscular body. His watermelon-sized arms were crossed over his chest, a thin layer of sweat on his flesh hinting that he had been working out recently. Sitting half-way on the arm of a couch was the flamboyantly dressed Will, mask over his eyes but no sign of mirth could be detected on his usually cheery, if riddle-some demeanor. Last was of the current Elite Four was silver-haired Karen, comfortably slouched on the same couch Will perched on. She appeared at ease and careless only to someone unfamiliar with her, and only one in the room was unfamiliar to Karen's ways.

Sitting next to her was a ghastly old hag with a cane, her feeble body deceiving in the wake of a sharp, harsh mind, a mean streak a mile wide, and an outstanding trainer record. Retired or not, the former Elite Four Agatha was quick to catch word of the shipwreck, and the moment it had been announced the Champion was missing the Ghost-Master had come sweeping through the League HQ faster than a hurricane wind, with a matching temper to boot.

"The authorities are currently claiming a sudden and unforeseen accident causing the first couple of explosions in the engine room that, in a chain reaction, exploded other parts of the ship and ripped it open. In reality, as far as Koga and I have searched we've found remnants of timers, untouched C4 residue, and a few interesting trinkets stuck inside the ship. We have deduced that the ship's destruction was no accident, but an obvious attempt at sabotage and murder. There were bombs placed on the ship, presumably by a passenger after the ship left port, and they were, as far as I know, strategically placed in the vital areas of the ship so that one bomb, no matter where it was set off, would set off the others nearby." Karen started off.

"Additionally," Will jumped in, "my psychics and I were able to detect certain signatures of the passengers."

"Signatures?" Agatha grumbled, bringing his attention to her.

"Sometimes psychics, pokemon or human, can pick up on the emotions and aura readings of someone in a certain place during emotional spikes, where their aura is at its strongest and most vivid. It's the only way we can usually detect ghosts, and its the closest I can get to using Aura without being an Aura Guardian or whatever they're calling themselves in Sinnoh." Will dutifully explained to the retired Elite trainer, "I picked up on a few signatures; most of them were those of the normal passengers, except for two- and I have suspicions about a third signature."

"Care to elaborate, or are you going to keep us in the dark?" Janine curtly inquired when he was quiet for a moment.

"The first signature," he began, intentionally sending her a sharp glance as quick as he could before Koga could match him with his own, "seems like a passenger, but the emotions invested in it are different; rather than negative in the sense of panic or fear, it's negative by anger and hate. The second was somewhat calm, considering the mayhem that was happening at the time, with the barest traces of fear and anger, so I've assumed that one to be Lance's."

"And the third?" came Bruno's curious grumble.

"It's as panic-stricken and fearful as the rest I picked up on, but as I trailed after it deeper into the ship it changed to something else, I assume to be somewhere between calm and anxious. Curiously, it, Lance's, and the first signature all end up in the same area, one of the sites of the explosions. From there, they disappear."

"So, it's pretty safe to assume that one," Janine began by holding up her hand and beginning a count with her fingers, "the explosions were a result of sabotage planted by someone, two, that this was clearly a planned attack, and that if your psychic trailing is to be trusted, then the third is that whoever staged this was intending to target Lance, specifically."

"Oh yes, do go on and repeat the obvious, dear." Agatha said in a dull, bored tone, "It's not like we can't already figure for ourselves the pieces to the puzzle." Despite the boredom laced in her tone, Janine was not ignorant of the harsh remark in her words.

"I'm just making sure that you haven't totally lost basic comprehension and are keeping up with the rest of us, _Hag_atha. I hear it's terribly common for retired women your age." Janine bit back. Agatha's already cold eyes became glazed with scalding ice, narrowing to dangerous slits. Koga's arm swiftly planted itself in front of Janine as a silent barrier between her and the elderly but very capable woman. Janine backed off at her father's silent but stern assertion of authority, though her eyes never left Agatha's, sending the older woman sharp daggers through her irises and imagination.

Agatha, on the other hand, was about to lift herself off the couch, and one hand gripped her cane til the knuckles were white while the other clearly appeared to be reaching for her pocket. Seeing her beginnings of advancement, Koga lifted himself off the wall he had been leaning on and stepped forward to place himself between the retired Elite and his daughter.

"Oh calm down, all of you!." Will snapped, inadvertently snapping the two females out of their little (and luckily non-physical at that moment) squabble, "We are all or once were a part of the Elite Four..." he then paused to reconsider on Janine's behalf, "and ultimately each and every one of us, Janine including, a high-ranking trainer of the Pokemon League! With or without our Champion, we at least ought to conduct ourselves accordingly with others and ourselves and be the spitting image that we are seen as."

"Over the hill?" Janine muttered under her breath.

"Glorified punching bag?" Agatha spat back.

"See, this is why we can't have nice things when the Champion's away." Karen sighed to Will.

"As respectable, responsible, and _mature_ citizens and trainers of Kanto and Johto." Will sternly elaborated.

"We are losing focus!" Koga's voice suddenly rumbled from next to Janine, "The League has yet to declare Lance Missing or Killed, and until they do we have til then to find him or the culprits."

"Which we don't know who it is." Karen noted.

Will snorted, "Please, I think we all have the same name at the very top of our lists."

"But this is a rather obvious attempt on the Champion; Team Rocket's never been so bold before." Karen countered.

"Guess they figured it was time to shake things up?" Will replied.

"No, this isn't Team Rocket's doing; at least, it doesn't seem like it. Besides, we're missing the fact that Lance and that other gym leader are still missing from the body count, and by Will's readings Lance and someone who I guess to be that same gym leader, were blown out of the ship by the explosion they came next to." Karen began, "The point is, we can't start tossing names around until we can pinpoint a body. Have any officials pinpointed where the ship first exploded?" she questioned, eyeing every person in the room carefully.

Koga was the one to step forth, "No, but a few diagnostics and detectives have released to me and their higher ups where they found the ship out at sea, how far off course it was, and the time where coast guard finally received the distress beacon, though it was too late by then."

"Alright, that's where we'll start-"

"In the middle of the ocean?" Bruno frowned.

"Pretty much. Who has a way of contacting Lorelei?" Only Bruno and Agatha gestured that they had a means to, which didn't surprise Karen at all," Alright, I reckon we'll need some water pokemon, so she'd come in handy."

"I know that twinkle anywhere," Will spoke up, "Karen, not that I'm not thankful that you seem to be the one taking charge of the situation, but what are you planning?"

"We can't completely up and leave the League without leaving behind some of us to take up challengers, few as they are during this time. But with Janine, Lorelei, and Agatha, we can still do our job, check up on them, and they can help continue our investigation. Is there anyone else we can bring into this without causing suspicion?"

"Sabrina," Janine named with a frown, "but she's never been one to come out of her mansion for anything else but her gym."

"Misty, the water gym leader." Bruno spoke up, then Koga next to him scoffed.

"That would work, if it weren't for the fact that the missing gym leader IS Misty."

"...alright," Will nodded, "I'll just send out a few messages to some of the gym leaders, see who responds first, and we'll go from there."

"Regardless of who ever gets first contact with Lorelei, I want Agatha to go with her. Your affinity with ghost types might help us sort between who's dead and who's missing." Karen said. Agatha duly nodded to her, the spat between her and Janine somewhat forgotten.

"I don't think I need to ask you two to do recon and find out more details on whether Team Rocket's really involved or not on this, do I?" Will questioned, his mask pointed to Koga and Janine.

"The Ninja Clan of Fuschia is already on the hunt, and are at our disposal." Koga punctuated with a swift clap of his folded arm firmly to his chest in a show of pride and respect, "I'm leaving in the next hour and will pass on further instruction to our clan before I come back here and perform my duties as Elite. Janine will, in the mean time of my absence from Fuschia, perform reconnaissance with the clan, and bring me information. Personally." he explained, both to Will as assurance and to alternatively give Janine instructions. The barest of nods passed from Janine as confirmation.

A knock on the door intercepted Will just as he opened his mouth to say more. All eyes darted to the offending object as the door swung open and a man in work shoes, pants, and a button up shirt with a name tag peered inside.

"The League's accepted a few challengers for today, since they were registered days ago and had to be moved over from time constraints." the messenger said, curiously eyeing the extra occupants of Agatha and Janine.

"Do they know the Champion's missing?"

The messenger shook his head, "It hasn't been released yet. Besides, after the challengers moved to today are finished, the League's shutting down and won't be accepting challengers until authorities come to a conclusion on the missing Champion's status."

Will nodded, "I'll be there in a few minutes." The messenger nodded back and closed the door, resealing the privacy of their conversation. Will hopped off the couch arm, fingers brushing over the pokeballs on his person and his psychic perception letting him see his pokemon's status. All green and good to go, it appeared.

"We'll continue this at a later date, my fellow teammates." he said, granting them all a gracious, dramatic bow and wave of his hand. Turning on his heel, Will took his leave through the same door the messenger had opened, heading for the floor of the building that would take him to the stadium.

Karen lifted herself off the couch, Koga stopped leaning on the wall, and Bruno was already in the process of following after Will. Behind Koga was his daughter Janine, intending on following her father up until he would enter the stand-by room. Agatha, behind them all, turned a separate way in the hall that would take her out of the League building. As Janine trailed behind her father, she voiced a concern of hers.

"You did not tell them of the insignia on the clock you had found, father?"

Keeping steady pace Koga did little but eye his daughter, "No matter what conclusions we may jump to, we must first be prepared for any and all possibilities. Until we can unearth more evidence, I will not trouble the rest of the Elite with one piece, especially since we all already suspect the same culprit."

"But as the Dark Lady spoke, this is too obvious a move by their standards." Janine countered, recalling Karen's similar words.

"Which is what encourages me to stay my tongue. If this is the work of Team Rocket, then we must worry for this emboldened move, for a master player uses bold moves only when he is at last prepared to conquer. All the same, our Champion has done much to create enemies. Rockets may be the biggest, but we cannot depend on them to be the sole suspect when the Dragon Master, as well as the rest of our Elite, have done much in our lives to make enemies of others."

"I do not like this withholding, Father."

"Do you intend to reveal me?" he questioned, eyeing her.

"Never." she instantly rebuked, her face contorted by a sliver of hurt, as if she were shocked or offended he would dare question her loyalty.

The slightest curve of a smile lifted the elder ninja's lips as he regarded his daughter during their walk to his standby room. Distantly they could hear the very faint, very muffled thunder of a battle commencing, presumably between Will and the first challenger.

"My instincts tell me there is more, that while this is not the work of Team Rocket, that they are still involved." they had arrived at the sliding metal doors that were marked above by words, 'Elite II [KOGA]', and there they finally stopped, "I will be along soon. Wait here, until the last challenger is defeated. Then we will depart for Fuschia."

"Yes Father." Janine dutifully nodded, before the doors slid open and Koga disappeared into the standby room.

-o00o-

Eventually, once both of their emotions had had a moment to settle down, they awkwardly parted from each other, both of them feeling a deep sensation of lose at the removed contact between each other and troubled by the realization of it. Lance was the first to stand, shuffling uneasily on his legs and grimacing in pain. Whatever damage they had avoided from the water, the rocks had repaid tenfold evidently, and Misty was sure he had bruises on bruises over bruises now. He helped her up and a sudden rain of fire rose up from her leg just in time with a gasp from Lance.

She looked down to the source and found, to her painful dismay, that part of her burn wound had re-opened and bled freely once more in small cuts and cracks. Red trailed down her calf tiny rivulets ran over the sides of her feet and ankles into small pools.

"Arceus!" she cursed, "I just can't get a break with this leg!" Misty finished with a dark, painful scowl.

"It's okay, we'll deal with that later." Lance assured her, though she noted he sounded exhausted, "Can you walk?"

Misty tried her leg, and while the sharp signals of pain were quick to race up her leg to her spine, she admitted that it would still support her weight. Evidently it was not satisfactory with Lance, who came up right beside her, moved her arm to rest on his shoulders and looped his own arm around her. Misty tried to shove aside the embarrassed flush that reddened her otherwise pale and cold cheeks as she once again was forced to depend on the Dragon Master. If fate could be personified into a tangible person at that very moment, Misty would have no qualms about giving them a piece of her mind, and her fist.

"Let's get back to camp, first."

"I'm sorry." She quickly grumbled. As the two redheaded trainers made their slow but steady way back to their small trail to camp, Lance turned to her, curious.

"What for?"

"For once again landing myself a new injury and making myself completely and totally useless!" she growled, angry at the turn of events, angry that she kept getting hurt and made useless, and so very angry that they were still stuck on the arceus-forsaken island far from home.

"You're not useless, Misty." his voice was tired, but disbelieving, "If you hadn't have proved that previously, you've certainly proved it today... I wouldn't be standing next to you right now if you were." Underneath their feet a little bit ahead of them was Azurill, who hopped about, completely happy and carefree of their circumstances now that they were out of the river and growlithe gone. Out of sight, out of mind Misty supposed.

"Azuri!" it cried out, its mouth curved up in a broad grin now that it was with her mother. The childish joy it displayed helped lift Misty's spirits up considerably.

Encouraged by the blue mouse, Lance pressed on, "Plus, we won't have to worry about your baby Azurill anymore."

That earned a grateful chuckle from Misty, "You're going to eat those words." At his confused expression, Misty elaborated with an unconcealed grin, "My baby girl's a troublemaker, just like her momma." The lack of specific naming left the question open as to whether she was referring to the Marill who birthed Azurill's egg, or herself. If her own grin was to be taken as a hint, Lance was inclined to believe Misty was meaning herself.

He laughed, as easily as one could considering he had narrowly avoided losing her that day and narrowly avoided losing his life too, and offered her a daring smile of his own, "I think I've proven to be quite capable of handling troublemakers, ma'am. Unless you're hiding a Rocket uniform somewhere under those soaked clothes."

"You'd just have to find that out for yourself one of these days, then, won't you, Mr. G-man?" she thoughtlessly remarked, her wide grin turning into a curious smile when a light blush fell on his cheeks until her brain caught up with her and told her exactly of the few implications that could be heard in her remark. She hastily tried to fix her mistake, but found nothing to cover over it, "I mean, uhm…"

"It's okay, Misty. I know you're joking." He assured her, though she could clearly still see the troubled flush on his face. The fact that she had so easily tossed out such an implicative remark bothered her as their trail-walking took on a silent turn. All those times she, Ash, and Brock used to travel there were many jokes and laughs between them but never could Misty remember ever being so careless and carefree and... _flirty_ with her words as to throw caution to the wind. Never, not once, had such an outright flirtatious and coy phrase left Misty's lips even when she was constantly side by side with her biggest crush.

Yeah, crush; that was one way to put it. Five years, Misty scowled, five years wasted pining on that clueless boy. And the other four years, just as equally thrown out simply because she couldn't tell whether to let it go and accept that she was in the friendzone, or keep hoping. Ladies and gentlemen, the life and times of Misty Waterflower who was always stuck in a stalemate!

Honestly, it had almost hurt even worse when she had come to the quick realization that Ash, Brock, and Tracey had been her only friends. Heck, when Ash had briefly come back from Hoenn, with May and Max along for the ride, Misty didn't care anymore whether her feelings for Ash were in danger of being revealed or not. Frankly, she was too busy being happy that instead of constantly fighting with her sisters, she actually could be around people that loved her as passionately and equally as she loved them! Young as she was, Misty still couldn't help but hate that she had wasted so much time hung up on the idea of-

WAIT A MINUTE.

...

That was _it_! It was just... so simple and yet Misty couldn't believe she had been so blind!

Maybe at some point she had been really in love with Ash, but once he left...

All this time...

She hadn't been in love with him! She had been in love with _the idea_ of being in love!

That was what she had really wanted all along!

The simple act of being in love, and being loved!

All those years! How could she have been so-so blind?!

Somewhere inside her, she felt a weight lift. The haunting face of Ash slowly drifted away from her as they came closer to their camp, and Misty felt for sure that she had finally unraveled the mystery of her crush. Finally, she could begin to free herself from Ash.

And that sent a wild rush of reckless freedom into her heart.

"You're awful quiet." Lance remarked beside her. That was when Misty snapped out of her silent revelation and turned her head just enough to see him fixating her with his eyes

"It's... been a long day. I'm okay." she told him, and it was true. Surviving a storm, rebuilding their new shelter, finding her baby Azurill, and saving Lance, and now her epiphany of Ash and her feelings... Misty was tired-scratch that, exhausted-, physically and emotionally. And the worst part, was the sun wasn't even setting. There was still something to do while daylight covered them-

"Whoa whoa whoa!" Misty mouthed when suddenly they went leaning dangerously to the side. Her arms switched around and moved Lance's so that hers were holding him up and his were to grip her body for support. His breathing was labored, and his eyes were closed, caught up in some kind of daze.

"I'm fine..." he breathed, his eyes opening but distant and hazy, "I'm just... having a case of lightheadedness and dizzy spell..." Misty noted, that as he spoke the rate of which he did had slowed down, and he looked like he was having quite a bit of trouble focusing.

"Headache?"

He nodded, "I can feel it coming. I... I hit my head on one of the river rocks. That's why I went unconscious."

Dread rose up, and just when she thought things were over, Misty mused and bit her lip. She wasn't a nurse, nor had any medical experience, but it sounded suspiciously like...

"I think you've gotten a concussion." Misty told him, her voice uneven and hesitant. She didn't want to alarm him, especially after what they'd just been through, but if it was true then he needed to know.

Lance apparently didn't hear her, and barely lifted his head to gaze his hazy, confused eyes at her, "What?"

"A concussion." she repeated.

"A cousin? Yeah, Clair's my cousin." he answered back, when his face scrunched into another confused expression, "Wait..."

Misty shook her head, now terribly troubled by his cluelessness, "We need to get to camp, _now_."

Lance blinked a few times, first at her, then the ground, and he snapped back to attention temporarily, grimacing, "That'd be a very good idea right about now."

* * *

In which the Elite Four +2 plan, Misty gets an a really random epiphany (cause those random epiphanies are, in fact, real and can happen, contrary to belief), and we prepare for the coming of a little bit of role reversal.

If you like this, review. Fave's are nice... but reviews are better. Short reviews, long reviews, rambling reviews, inquisitive reviews, big fat llama reviews, any reviews!

If no like, review and tell me so.

If not, I'll just continue anyway. Whenever I get around to it. C:

-KO13


	15. Chapter 15

Okay, so I told myself a couple nights ago to at least get something done before August, so since it's the last day of July and I finally managed to kick something up, here it is.

I hadn't realized it earlier but OHMYGOD GUYS LAST CHAPTER BROUGHT THIS FIC TO 106 PAGES AND

AND OHMIGOD 108 REVEWS WHERE DID THIS NUMBER COME FROM I COULD HAVE SWORN YOU WERE 45 YESTERDAY WHAT

106 PAGES 108 REVIEWS

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE SO HAPPY WE BREACHED 100! AHMYGOD I'VE GOT TO GO CELEBRATE THIS WITH CAKE!

CAKE AND MAYBE A CELEBRATORY LANCEMISTY ONESHOT/DRAWING BUT THAT CAN COME LATER

On an unrelated note, who here is excited for Pokemon X and Y? I know I am! You can ride a goat pokemon like a horse! 8D

To the following:

Guest#1 (alias of Lance Wyvern): Ah, I see. Well, the Elite certainly weren't running aimlessly about like headless chickens in your absence, I assure you! I'm afraid I do not, though there might be some capes for vampire costumes or something like that in a few thrift stores, if that helps? Hi Dragonite! C:

sesshuomaru-sama's lover: Updating now, maybe? C: Well, like it was really quickly mentioned, maybe at some point her feels for Ash might have been legit, but once he left for Hoenn it went kaput. And their families know right about now, probably. Misty's sisters WERE supposed to meet her at the port, so they probably saw the ship all busted up and are freaking out, I've just instead been focusing on the Elites. Terrible, aren't I? lol yeah, me and you both, I've been itching to let loose a whole storm of flirting between them, but as it's a bit early for it. We'll steadily be turning up the heat more and more though, I promise ;D

japaneserockergirl: AAAAH I MISSED YOU. Yes, thank you, yes, we may start getting a little sweeter now... or maybe the strife has just begun! O.o?

Farii: Thank you, and it's no problem, I don't mind you only reviewing for the last chapter. I know it certainly gets tedious trying to do one for every chapter when you've just caught a story. The notion is tempting, and I'm sure plenty of other readers would agree. Unfortunately, even to my own frustration sometimes, I really want to really develop deep into them, get real personal with them and to each other, and to do that takes... well, a frustrating amount of patience, but we'll see about picking up the pace. I won't make any promises, but maybe we'll see.

New Readers: PhoenixLyrics, POTO guest, Kruger, Nysse21, bobisbusy, blank10809, Farii, and bobilton

Welcome aboard C:

I'm going to go ahead and apologize for any OOCness that you think or know you see.

* * *

Misty didn't know if he was getting worse or not. All she knew was that he kept falling in and out of balance on his feet, kept losing his focus, and was obviously losing a battle with a headache. It was with heavy amounts of effort and painful reminders by her leg that Misty managed to half-walk half-drag him to their semi-finished shelter by the beach. She settled him down nearby the shelter and leaned over to grab her knees with her hands and get herself a breather. Next to her Azurill chirped around Lance, then Misty, concerned at their obvious tire.

"We're okay, Azurill. We'll be okay." Misty assured it tiredly. She caught her breath and took a quick moment to examine the sun's position in the sky. It was half way across the sky, but only just beginning to fall. She still had a little bit of time to finish their new shelter, Misty guessed, but how good it would be as a shelter was indeterminable.

There were still piles and piles of debris and driftwood from the storm that Lance had previously stacked beside the shelter for intended use and construction. Torn palm tree leaves also littered the beachside, and the pathetic flat slab of muddy sticks, sand, and leaves they had previously used as their shelter was nearby too. Misty also found the arbok-engraved dagger in the sand, and deemed it usable despite its dull edge.

"Misty, let me help." Lance said from his spot. Misty could see he was still hazy, but there was definitely a sharp amount of concentration in him that let him think on the situation at hand. His expression was that of a dejected soul, self-pointed anger and shame burning him up at the prospect of being unable. Misty could certainly sympathize with him on that front, but as she thought about it, she couldn't let him strain himself trying to lift, place, and work with all their heavy materials. She couldn't take the risk of him killing himself by worsening whatever damage was already done to him, especially with that concussion hampering him. He needed rest, ASAP.

"Then make a fire." Misty told him. He was near enough to the remains of their little fire-dugout prior to the storm, and there appeared to be some wood around him to do so, however he had done it last time. She turned slightly to Azurill, "Azurill, dig out a small hole right beside that tree trunk." Azurill nodded its obedience and started digging at the sand with its feet in the inner curve of the half-finished shelter.

"I can't, the wood's all wet from the storm still." That's right, she thought, and it would take a while before the wood would be dry enough to make a fire.

"Okay... then tell me where some of this goes, so I don't mess it up." Misty instructed, limping to the closest pile of wood and began to pick up one. Liquid trickled down her leg at the effort of moving and walking, and the rivulets grew bigger when she lifted it to her shoulders from the strain.

"Misty, stop, you're bleeding! Let me help!"

"No!" she stubbornly replied, moving the slab of wood from her shoulders and sticking it deep into the sand hole Azurill had dugout by the palm tree trunks serving as supports. When she was sure it wouldn't fall, she turned hotly to face him. "The tables have turned, Lance. Leg or no leg, I'm not the one suffering a concussion and a near death experience! I'm sorry, but now... now it's my turn to take care of us!" She took a bare right turn to grab another hunk of drift wood while Azurill dug another hole for it to fit.

"I don't want you to kill yourself trying to do so." he said softly.

"Yeah, well, I didn't want you to kill yourself trying to take care of us both either, and look at how well that turned out for us." she replied nastily, and shoved the wood into the sand. Misty proceeded to hoist a new chunk of driftwood up out of the sand and onto her shoulders while Azurill dug small inserts for the wood to fit. The cycle repeated a few times when she paused, beads of sweat forming along her skin and she looked over to Lance.

His eyes switched often between focusing on her and the ground, though a few times they became unfocused and he would close them. He needed to rest and get as much as he could as soon as possible, but Misty knew by simply looking his way that the Champion was miserable where he was. Pondering his mood led her to wonder whether he was feeling the weight of their whole situation on his shoulders, or if he was miserable with the thought of being useless and helpless to their cause. She could certainly sympathize with him on the latter, having felt powerless and useless since day one.

But, thinking about it, had he ever had to deal with that before? Had Lance ever before had to deal with being helpless, or maybe this was the first time he had ever found himself powerless? It made sense to her, being that he looked and proved to be the type of man that was always on the move. Chasing after Team Rocket and poachers surely could put a person in tight places though, wouldn't it? Then again, Lance was a Champion, and a real master with his pokemon. He was clever, and quick, and powerful with his pokemon team, so maybe it wouldn't put him in as problematic a place as his activities might have if, say, Ash had done them instead.

"Hey, uhm, Lance?"

"What?" was his gruff, slurred response. He looked up at her with tired, frustrated eyes and Misty felt certain he was feeling very much powerless.

"Could you tell me where some of this goes? I don't want to mess it up and have it fall on us during the night, you know...please?"

His lashes blinked a few times as he considered, then his head nodded. It wasn't much, but it was something for him to focus on and keep his mind off himself and their circumstances, Misty supposed. Azurill and Misty resumed their pattern of work while Lance interjected once in awhile with directions on what went where, and how it might fit if she tried a certain way. It was slow going but finally Misty stepped back, wiping sweat from her forehead, satisfied.

Whereas their first shelter had been a rough triangle, this one was a much larger but still small semi "U" shaped. The back had a thick wall of driftwood facing the forest, with the ends of them leaning on the two adjacent broken palm tree trunks. Where they had moved the fallen parts of the trees, Misty had been able to line up more driftwood and debri alongside the inside space between the trees. The side-wall line up of wood was dug deep into the sand so they wouldn't fall over, and were good supports to the smaller, thinner pieces of wood and leaves stacked over the top as a roof. The shabby slab of branches, leaves, and sand that had been their original shelter laid to the side upright, to be dragged over the front of it all and used as a sort-of-door.

Overhead, the sky was barely blue, melting into warm colors at one end of the sky signaling the nearing sunset. Misty kicked up some of the leftover wood they could use for a fire, but it was still damp from the storm. Her stomach growled and ached a vicious fit, as did Lance's. Azurill seemed alright for the time being, but she didn't much know for how long. Additionally, without a fire to cook, she couldn't go fishing with Azurill, and it seemed a bit too late to try going foraging through the forest. They had a full water bottle, and perhaps if she walked on the beach ahead for just a little bit, she might be lucky and find some coconuts from the trees that the storm might have knocked free?

"I'll be back really quickly, I promise."she told Lance, and ran off before he could protest. Her leg ached something fierce as she ran until she was far enough from Lance and she slowed to a walk. Beside her shuffled Azurill, and together they scourged the beachside and palm tree lines for anything remotely edible that they could use to sate hunger for the night. Tomorrow, though, she promised internally that she'd go fishing with Azurill and figure out how to light that fire if Lance couldn't. She knew next to nothing about concussions, and she truly hoped it wouldn't last for long. She found a few coconuts slightly buried in the sand and only twice did she make Azurill Tackle and Bubble a tree to try to knock down a few that lingered on the treetops but looked ripe.

Once she had gathered enough, together she and Azurill carried a small collection of four coconuts back to her and Lance's discombobulated man was able to focus in himself to try to help her crack them, though by the time she had two he finished cracking one. Concern washed over her, and while Misty wasn't so useless with making their camp, she felt helpless to help him as he suffered.

At her concern, he waved her off, though his movements were sluggish at best, "I'll be fine, Misty, I'm just fighting off a headache."

It did nothing to stop her worrying, and when his hand reached for the last of the coconuts to crack, she had already beaten him to it. Misty collected together all the meat from inside the nuts and split it unevenly between all three of them. Azurill hopped into her lap and she fed her baby pokemon first before herself, carefully tearing small pieces and letting Azurill slurp them up off her fingertips and chew. Lance, on the other hand, was not so quiet.

"This isn't equal." he growled. "You cut me the bigger piece." he observed.

"Just eat, Lance." Misty ordered, keeping her attention on Azurill as the baby pokemon chewed, "After everything that's happened today, and what we're going to have to deal with now, you need it more than I do."

"Misty, I can't take this."

"You're not _taking_ anything, I'm _giving_ it to you." she replied, "I've got my share, which will hold me over until we can get some properly foraged food tomorrow. And you have yours."

He was quiet for a few seconds, considering. She saw the flash in his eyes though, that stubborn, angry need to protect and take care of others more than himself flare up as his lips parted, "But Misty-"

"No." she stopped him, setting Azurill down in the sand, the baby pokemon fed and full, and giving Lance a steady, leveling gaze, "Ever since the beginning, all I've done since waking up on the beach is _nothing_. I've done nothing to help us, and you've been pulling everything. But now it's my turn, Lance. It's my turn to take care of us so..." she wavered off, unsure of what else to say and how to say so, and when she focused back on him, her gaze had softened into a gentle plea, "so please... let me take care of you, this time."

Quietly, broodingly, Lance the Dragon Master finally relented under her and zoned in on eating the food she had been able to find and harvest. Misty too started to chew into her coconut, while Azurill played with the tide in the sand, Misty watching in case she got carried by the waves. It was enough to sate their hunger, but she didn't know how long their bodies could sustain very well on coconut, and honestly she wasn't willing to find out.

Lance ate slowly, and stopped when he appeared to be nauseous, or lost focus and became dizzy, side effects Misty assumed from the concussion. Then they both proceeded to quench an edge of their thirst, and Misty was content watching the sun fall down the horizon. As the last rays of the sun waned, Misty had Azurill help her snatch up palm tree leaves, and made an underpadding to use. On top she laid the remaining scraps of cloth that had been stripped to wrap her leg, and Lance's previous wounds, and then another but this time wholesome clothing-looking suspiciously like the pants of a uniform. Lance's cape, she had decided, would keep them warm as a small cover.

Misty had then helped Lance over into their newly built shelter, carefully sinking him onto the makeshift bed-nest. Within minutes the Dragon Master had succumbed to his exhaustion and fell into sleep. It appeared deep immediately, and Misty watched him for a moment. Her mind flashed back to that terrifying moment when he had been unconscious, how eerie and lifeless he had seemed despite the lax look of his face. But here, she could hear his breathing. She could see his chest rising and falling in a steady, slow pace. If Misty were to touch him, she could too feel the relaxed, lively beating of his heart's pulse.

For the life of her, after all the excitement of the day and all her exhaustion, Misty couldn't sleep. The moon wasn't full, but it was offering enough moonlight that Misty could make out shapes and bare hues of colors. Azurill had ceased her playing and snuggled into Misty's arms, lightly dozing off as Misty stargazed and watched the black waters of the sea break into white seafoam on the beach.

Azurill woke up suddenly when a tear had tapped its head, and she cooed concerned at Misty. Misty sniffled and cuddled her baby pokemon, letting out tears as once more, the terror and grim realization hit her that, she had come so very, very close to losing Lance, her only friend on the forsaken island, the only human with her that she could tie her sanity to. She had tried to stay strong, even when he awoke, even when a few tears had slipped out as they had embraced, but the dam was breaking, and the pain and terror was leaking out.

"Azu?"

Misty sniffled the snot trying to fall, wiped away some of her tears with her wrist, and hugged Azurill closer, "It's okay, Azurill. It's okay. _I'm_ okay, I'm going to be okay. I promise."

"Rill..." it sighed, still yet concerned as the baby pokemon could still see the watery veil clouding Misty's eyes.

A twig far off to her left suddenly snapped and so did Misty's breath. Before she could stop her, Azurill wriggled her way out of Misty's arms and started to investigate. Misty scrambled to her hands and feet and managed to catch Azurill's tail and drag her back to her hands, but when Misty looked up, she froze.

It was dark, though the moonlight offered a hefty hand in illuminating some of the shapes she could see. Regardless, though, Misty was one hundred and thirty percent sure she was seeing the furry red-orange fur of a Growlithe trying vainly to hide in the bare bush by a nearby palm tree. It too had noticed Misty's presence, and had frozen at the same time she did. Darkness prevented her from seeing anything else besides its fur color and figure, but she was sure they were stuck with rigid eye contact, somehow.

Azurill found herself loosely released from her mother-owner's hands, and waddled a few more paces closer to the Growlithe, cooing and urging it softly. The Growlithe, the same Growlithe she had rescued Misty was sure of, never moved, and eventually Azurill deflated. The blue baby pokemon then dejectedly waddled back near Misty, who still focused on the puppy pokemon.

To her and Azurill's shock, however, the puppy began tentatively approaching. One paw in front of the other, barely pressing into the sand, the puppy pokemon slowly crept closer and closer to Misty and Azurill until it was in front of her directly. Close up, she could see the white of its eyes finally, and they too were wide with fear and awareness, and...something else.

It sniffed at her scent at its proximity, and very stiffly leaned its head forward until its nose was pressed against her leg. Her skin shivered at the contact of its wet nose, and its pink tongue darted out to give her upper knee one good, solid lick before it turned tail and darted away into the forest.

Azurill called after it, but the puppydog pokemon had disappeared. Curious, Misty wondered what the lick was about. Maybe, just maybe, the Growlithe had been cautiously trying to show its thanks for saving it in the river?

Misty picked up Azurill and made her short way back to their shelter, unaware of the small peeking orange and white head watching her behind foliage. Her footsteps faltered a bit, her leg reminding her sharply of its condition. I'll check it in the morning, Misty told herself.

Misty then wriggled her way into the new shelter, Azurill next to her, as she laid part of the blanket-cape over her form, and snuggled into Lance's sleeping form against his back. She fell asleep, comforted by the sound of his soft, steady breathing, and beating heart in her ear.

* * *

In which Misty rebuilds, I fail at making them argue, and Growlithe decides to become a stalker.

And, because we've reached 100+ reviews and 100+ pages on a page count, Here's a special:

WARNING: I suck at hands, especially rocks, and daggers. They look terrible. I gave up half way. Go to pixiv ( pixiv dot net ), search up "kingdrashipping", and it should be there. Enjoy!

As always, reviews are very much appreciated.

-KO13


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